


The Knight of Cups

by Zisk



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Everybody loves pumpkin bread, Fluff, Gender nonspecific reader, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Multi, Origami, Other, florist, tropes!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:27:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23866015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zisk/pseuds/Zisk
Summary: A series of one-shot AUs with the characters of The Arcana, focusing around a certain cafe.
Relationships: Asra (The Arcana)/Reader, Julian Devorak/Reader, Muriel (The Arcana)/Reader, Nadia (The Arcana)/Reader, Nahara (The Arcana)/Reader, Portia Devorak/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 140





	1. Setting

You couldn’t think of a time when Mazelinka’s hadn’t been open. The coffee shop was nestled between a florist and a bookshop, their facades blending into each other to create an oasis of comfort in the middle of the block. It had become a neighborhood institution over the years, due partially to its longevity but mostly to its quality. It was homey- hardwood and warm lights, chairs you could sink into, the scents of coffee and tea mingling with whatever was wafting out of the kitchen, and all of it overlaid with an herby smell that no one could place but that evoked old memories and left you feeling safe. Always busy but never crowded, somehow there was always a seat if you wanted to stay.  
As for the eponymous woman herself, Mazelinka was sweet and firey in equal measure. Short in stature and big in personality, everyone knew when she was on-premises and there was never a dull moment when she was. She brought out the best in her staff, then held them to that standard. Sightings of her wife Lilinka were few and far between, she’d been busy raising their two adopted children when the shop had first opened. Now that they’d grown, Lilinka had started pouring herself into the projects she wanted to pursue, only occasionally stopping through the shop to snag some tea and a kiss from her wife.  
Their children were a pair of redheaded troublemakers. Possessing a good heart and a flare for the dramatic, their son Julian was serving his fellowship in the virology department of the hospital up the street. Boisterous and creative, their daughter Portia was working towards a business management degree and working part-time at the florists next door. They were both familiar sights at the shop, Portia tended to study near the windows and Julian would stop through almost every morning on his way to the hospital.  
Another familiar face was the owner of the florists next door. Exuding poise and elegance (even on the occasions she had one of her sisters in tow and an increasingly frazzled look in her eye), Nadia Satrinava started every morning in the coffee shop. Years ago she had worked out some kind of deal with Mazelinka, the end result being that Nadia drank for free.  
The staff were a mix of personalities and backgrounds, all of them sharing the commonality of a loyalty to their employer. It was rare for the coffee shop to post a help wanted sign, their hires liked to stay. Their manager Ketos, for example, had been with the shop since the first time the doors had opened (Ketos’ competency fueled Mazelinka’s more recent tendency to take long trips to find new places to source her coffee beans and tea leaves from, leaving Ketos in charge with only the faintest of protests). The head baker, Selasi, had been there almost as long and most of the kitchen had gradually come under his purview. The AM shift lead was a svelte, good-natured man named Asra. With hair like a dandelion gone to seed, a wicked sense of humor and well over a thousand photos of his lavender corn snake Faust on his phone (which he was happy to show off at every opportunity), none of his coworkers minded that he ran a tight ship to keep everything smooth during the morning rushes. Least of all his best friend Muriel, who had joined on as a baker a few months after Asra had started. A soft-spoken bear of a man, Muriel rarely left the kitchen (if pressed, he’d say it was because he didn’t fit through the door) and would take weeks to warm up to new hires. His introversion was so legendary the kitchen had begun to take bets on how long he’d take to accept someone new, calling it The Trial Of The Golden Chicken for reasons they refused to explain but said would come clear once you’d passed the test.  
Between the quality, the comfort, and the cast of characters it brought into your sphere, Mazelinka’s held a special place in your heart. It wasn’t that you didn’t know what your life would be like if you hadn’t found it, it was that you were glad you didn’t have to find out.  
The front door to the shop swung open under your hand, your entrance heralded by the gentle jingling of the bell over the door, and you stepped over the threshold into the warmth.


	2. Julian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian Devorak - Coffee Shop - 'You keep giving me fake names for your order'

You waved to Asra as the door swung shut behind you, shrugging off your coat and making a beeline for the back hallway. After dropping your things in the back room you grabbed an apron, deftly tying it on as you made your way back to the counter.  
“How was opening?” You called to the white haired man, grabbing a sleeve of take away cups and sticking them on the shelves under the espresso machine.  
Asra leaned against the counter, shrugging. “Quiet, as usual. Go pop your head in the kitchen, before the rush hits. Muriel’s trying a new scone recipe and wants opinions.”  
You nodded, turning on your heel and hurrying to the kitchen. Any excuse for Muriel’s baked goods was a good excuse, and you always loved when he tried experimenting. The mountain of a man looked up as you walked in, nodding before jerking his head at a plate of fresh scones. You waved, grabbing one and breaking off a corner. The scone crumbled in your mouth and you closed your eyes, smiling as you gave Muriel a thumbs up.  
“I don’t know what you did.” You mumbled around a full mouth. “But you really did it, and you should do it more.”  
Muriel snorted as he turned back to the dough he was kneading, trying to hide his pleased look.  
You mowed through the rest of the scone as fast as you could, brushing off your apron and trying to regain your presentable appearance before walking back out front.  
Asra glanced up as you walked back out, grinning at the look on your face.  
“Everything Muriel touches turns to gold.” You observed, taking up your usual position at the register.  
He nodded, sliding your morning cup of coffee towards you. “I thought you’d appreciate his experiment.”  
You shot him a grateful look, sipping the hot drink and sighing. “You are also a master, thank you.”  
He laughed, turning back to fiddling with the espresso machine before the rush hit. You sipped the drink as fast as you could without burning yourself, re-arranging things around the register back to the way you liked them.  
The morning rush started not long after, reducing the first part of your shift to a blur of faces and drink orders and soft early-morning smiles. Your customers might not have been awake enough for true coherency, but at least they were sweet about it.  
After it trailed off you flew through restocking, fetching sleeves of cups and trays of mugs, leaving re-arranging the pastry case to Asra.  
The bell over the door jingled and you resumed your post at the register, bright smile on your face. The man approaching gave you a tired smile in return, a light dusting of pink coloring his cheeks. His unruly red hair fell into his face, obscuring one eye almost completely, and the shadow under his visible eye was almost mistakable for a bruise. You still couldn’t help the way your breath caught, though, just for a moment at the sight of him.  
“Good morning!” You chirped, recovering quickly. “What can I get you?”  
“A large red eye and a pumpkin muffin, for take away please.”  
You nodded, punching the order into the register and accepting his money. You handed him his change and grabbed a cup, looking at him expectantly.  
“Can I get a name for that?”  
He hesitated for a moment before a sly smile spread across his lips. “Darth Vader.”  
You raised an eyebrow, staring at him for a long moment and watching the obvious amusement on his face before you snorted, writing the name down on the cup and sliding it over to Asra. The man tipped his head to you, heading towards the pick up counter, and you turned your attention to the next person in line.  
When Asra set a cup and a small bag on counter, loudly calling “Darth Vader!” with a laugh evident in his voice, you glanced up and watched the man collect his order before heading towards the door. The phone ringing took your attention, and you missed the glance he sent over his shoulder as he stepped out.  
Asra, however, had no such distractions.  
*  
It was your turn on the espresso machine and you were finally starting to resurface after the last rush. Your focus was no longer a seemingly endless stream of cups and espresso shots, there was only a handful left sitting on the counter, and you kept your head down as you went through them.  
At least, you kept your head down until you grabbed the last cup. Written on the side was ‘Sherlock Holmes’, unmistakable in Asra’s elegant handwriting. You looked up, eyes darting around the shop until they settled on the redheaded man you knew you’d see. He gave you a grin and a little wave and you bit back a surprised laugh, nodding to him and barely hiding your smile behind your machine.  
You placed the coffee on the counter, bagged muffin beside it, and swallowed an amused sigh.  
“Sherlock Holmes!” You called. The man perked up and trotted over, oversized coat billowing slightly behind him.  
“Thank you.” He smiled brightly, tipping his coffee at you in salute.  
“Of course.” You felt a small blush forming on your cheeks. “Have a good day.”  
The man hesitated for a moment, visibly considering his words before dipping his head. “You too!”  
In several long strides he was to the door and, with one quick glance over his shoulder, out of it. Slowly, you became aware of Asra’s gaze and turned to find the man grinning at you.  
“What?” You asked, a little peevishly, as you began to blush.  
Asra shook his head, still grinning.  
“I don’t know what you’re on about.” You sniffed, turning to the all-encompassing task of cleaning the espresso machine.  
Behind you, Asra laughed.  
*  
You caught yourself watching the front door out of the corner of your eye as the morning rush petered out, waiting for the jingle of the bell to herald a mess of red curls and a sheepish smile. He’d been in around the same time the last couple days, and based on his familiarity with Asra you were willing to be he’d been keeping to that schedule for a while.  
The line finally dwindled to nothing, Asra taking the opportunity to freshen up the espresso machine while you restocked the front counter. After a long moment the door chimed and you looked up.  
His hair was tucked back, resting on his scarf, and you could see both of his eyes. He grinned when he saw you, loosening the scarf a little as he walked up to the counter.  
“Bit of a brisk morning?” You asked him in greeting and he nodded, looking a little more flushed than he had when he stepped inside.  
“Colder than a witch’s tit.” He shivered for dramatic effect, nodding to Asra in greeting. You snorted.  
“Then you’d better get something to warm you up.” You gave him a sympathetic smile. “Red eye?”  
“Please.” He glanced at the pastry case. “Any recommendations this morning?”  
You eyed the case for a moment before nodding. “The pumpkin bread. Everything Muriel makes is good, but that’s my favorite.”  
He blinked for a moment, processing, before nodding. “With a sales pitch like that, I don’t see that I have any other option. Pumpkin bread it is.”  
You chuckled, handing him his change and grabbing a large cup. “Can I get a name?”  
He looked thoughtful for a moment before grinning playfully. “Buzz Lightyear.”  
You gave him an amused glance, dutifully writing the name on the cup before turning to Asra.  
Asra was leaning on the counter, watching your exchange with obvious amusement. He took the cup, turning back to the espresso machine with a small smile on his face.  
“How long have you been working here?” The redhead asked, looking nervous when you turned back to him. “I just… I mean, I’m usually through in the morning and I don’t remember seeing you before. I’m not implying the coffee you made yesterday was sub-par, it was great, you’re obviously not new. I just- Ah.” He stopped, flustered.  
It was everything you could do not to laugh. “It’s pretty hard to screw up a red eye.” You winked, handing him the bag with the pumpkin bread. “I’ve been here a few months now, but I just moved to the morning shifts.”  
He nodded, still blushing.  
“How long have you been coming in?” You tipped your head.  
He shrugged, looking sheepish. “Since it opened, practically.”  
You nodded. “I wish someone would have told me about this place sooner, I’ve loved it here since the first time I came in.”  
“It’s pretty great.” He chuckled.  
Asra set the full cup on the counter between the two of you, giving the redhead a small smile.  
You slid the cup a little closer to him. “Your coffee, Mr. Lightyear.”  
“Please.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “Mr. Lightyear was my father, call me Buzz.”  
“Okay Buzz.” You grinned, barely suppressing a laugh. “Try not to freeze out there.”  
He reached for the coffee, hand hesitating just before he grabbed it. “I don’t… think I ever caught your name.”  
“Slinky Dog, but my friends call me Slink.” You winked as his face went from startled to amused to accepting.  
“I suppose that’s fair.” He grabbed his coffee, saluting you with it. “May the rest of your shift be manageable, Slink.”  
You waved, trying to keep a straight face until the door closed behind him.  
*  
You had the next two days off, of which you spent no time thinking about the mysterious redhead or what name he might come up with next because thinking about those things would be silly.  
He didn’t come in your first day back, and you didn’t glance up every time to the door opened. Because that would be silly.  
You had almost convinced yourself that he wasn’t coming in on your second day back, the morning inching ever towards noon with no sign of him.  
The door jingled and you didn’t look up, distracted by pulling shots. Asra greeted someone, their response masked by the hiss of the steamer wand. You set the coffee on the counter, calling Ms. Connoley up, and grabbed the next cup.  
‘Red eye’, the side said. ‘James T. Kirk’  
You bit your lip, holding in a laugh, and looked up. The redhead caught your eye, grinning. You gave him a thumbs up before turning your attention to pulling his espresso shots. Asra slid a bagged pumpkin bread to you, giving you an amused look.  
You set the order down on the counter, locking eyes with the redhead. “Captain Kirk!” You called.  
He grinned, strutting up to the counter, and you felt a faint blush starting.  
“Pumpkin bread again?” You asked when he got close enough.  
He nodded, dropping the bag in his coat pocket. “You were right, it’s amazing.”  
You smiled, feeling faintly pleased. “I usually am.” You winked.  
He blushed, looking taken aback for a moment before his smile returned full-force. “I believe that.” Asra set a couple cups next to the espresso machine, giving you a pointed glance.  
“Have a good rest of your day, captain.” You smiled.  
“Have a good rest of your shift…” He trailed off, raising an eyebrow.  
“Bones, to my friends.” He laughed as you turned back towards the machine, shooting a grin over your shoulder.  
*  
“-got my hand free, but he’d run off in the confusion without his shoe.” The redhead shrugged in an expansive ‘what can you do’ gesture, grinning. “Should have seen the look on his face when he came back the next day to get it.”  
“Did you ever tell him?” You raised an eyebrow.  
“Naw, what would have been the point? Anyway, this way he gets the better story.”  
You laughed. “Your logic is flawless. Want the usual?”  
“If you’d be so kind.”  
“What name are we using today?” You shot him a playful look.  
“I-“ Asra slammed his hand on the counter, interrupting. You both looked to him, startled.  
He was staring at the redhead, halfway between amusement and exasperation. “You two are adorable, but you cannot keep this going forever and I know you’ll try. If you tell her your name, your actual name, I will buy your drink. I will buy your drinks for a week. Just… Please.” He sighed.  
The redhead blinked before his face turned a truly impressive shade of crimson. “I- I don’t-“  
“Asra-“ You spoke at the same time as the redhead, both of you stopping to look at each other.  
Asra rolled his eyes, focusing on the redhead again. “Be bold.”  
The redhead closed his eyes, swallowing. “Julian.” He smiled at your raised eyebrow. “My name is Julian.”  
You hesitated for a bare moment before smiling. “I’m (Y/N).”  
He sketched a shallow bow. “It’s a pleasure to properly make your acquaintance, (Y/N).”  
Asra sighed, muttering something that sounded like ‘finally’, and grabbed a large cup before retreating behind the espresso machine.  
You slid the bag of pumpkin bread to Julian, leaning forward. “So, why the name game? Are you a wanted man who can’t give up his caffeine fix, slipping aliases to baristas to keep from being caught?”  
“No, I-“ He looked about to weave something elaborate before he sighed, deflating a little. “I just think you’re really cool and I wanted to make you laugh.”  
You blinked, taken aback for a moment. Asra set the coffee cup between the two of you again, giving you a pointed look.  
Julian blushed, reaching for the coffee.  
“Hang on.” You grabbed it before he could, fishing a sharpie out of the holder by the register and scrawling something along the side of his cup before you handed it to him.  
He raised an eyebrow, looking bemusedly at the cup.  
“It’s my phone number.” You explained. “I think you’re pretty cool too.”  
His blush deepened but he looked pleased. “I’ve got a night off from the hospital later this week, maybe we could…”  
“I’d love that.” You grinned.  
“Okay. Okay, cool. I’ve got to, uh-“ He gestured towards the door. “There’s a virus culture I need to do… a medical… thing… I’ll call you.”  
Your smile softened and you nodded. “I’ll talk to you later.”  
He opened and closed his mouth, finally settling for waving before walking out of the shop.  
You turned to Asra. He was smirking.  
“You’re welcome.” He laughed.


	3. Nadia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nadia Satrinava - Florist – 'How do you say ‘fuck you’ with flowers'

The purple-haired woman behind the counter looked up at your entrance, taking in your stiff body language and flustered facial expression with only a raised eyebrow.  
“Good afternoon.” She called. “Can I help you find anything?”  
You strode straight to the counter, slapping a $20 down on the wood a little harder than you meant to. Her eyebrow climbed higher. “I need a bouquet. Not just any bouquet, I need a bouquet that encapsulates pure ‘go fuck yourself’.”  
The perfectly shaped eyebrow was joined by her other eyebrow, her expression going from bemusement to understanding in a flash. Then, slowly, a toothy smile formed behind her lips.  
“I have just the thing.” She stepped out from behind the counter with a swish of her skirt and made her way between coolers of flowers, delicately plucking a bright assortment. You trailed after her at a safe distance, breathing slowly through your nose and trying to recover the equilibrium you’d lost on the way over.  
Finally her loop lead you both back to the counter and you resumed your spot while she started readying and arranging the flowers. She glanced over her shoulder once, sizing you up and gauging how flustered you still were.  
“If you wanted-“ she kept her voice soft, not facing you, “we could get specific. Not just general ‘get wrecked’, but pinpointed ‘you’re an ass and here’s why’.”  
You snorted quietly, shaking your head. “I like that. Plus, I bet it’s not every day that someone comes in all-“ you fluttered your hands “spun up and asking for rude flowers.”  
The woman glanced at you again, a tiny smile tugging at her lips. The eyebrow was back up and you couldn’t help smiling at it.  
“It might happen more than you think.” She observed, turning back to the flowers.  
“That’s…” You shook your head. “Okay, so. I have this ex. We broke up a couple years ago, when I found out they were sleeping with my best friend behind my back.” She half turned back to you, eyebrows furrowed. You held up a hand. “No, no. It gets better. Three days ago, I got this letter in the mail. Their wedding planner must have been the one sending out invitations, because there is no way they’d have sent me one.”  
She gasped, hand flying to cover her mouth.  
“Obviously I’m going to send it back with ‘unable to attend’ checked, but I wanted to send it back with a… gift. Of sorts.” You looked at your feet, half-scuffing the tow of one shoe. “It’s… it’s stupid, I should just throw out the-“  
“Absolutely not, you are sending these flowers and I’m cutting you a deep discount, and we are putting a few more in here. Come with me.” She strode out from behind the counter, a few uncut flowers in her hand, and lead the way back to the coolers. She returned those flowers to their homes, instead pulling out a handful of new ones and passing them to you as she muttered softly under her breath. You felt the small smile tugging at your lips again, her intensity and obvious displeasure made you feel… something. Cared about.  
Finally, she shut the cooler door with an emphatic whumpf and lead you back to the front, taking the flowers from you and turning back to the in-progress bouquet.  
“That is atrocious.” She grumbled, glancing over her shoulder. “To treat you so poorly and then have the audacity to send you that card.”  
“I’m sure it was an accident.” You sighed. She made a disparaging sound, the eyebrow going back up.  
She stepped back, reached out to fuss with a couple more things, then turned to present it to you. She pointed to each flower as she spoke.  
“Foxglove for insincerity, columbine for faithlessness, yellow carnation for disappointment, orange lily for hatred and two yellow roses for infidelity.” She huffed at the end of her recitation, looking at you with a scowl. “I would be happy to arrange the delivery.”  
You laughed. “I’m almost scared to give you the address, now.” She looked nonplussed. “That’s amazing, thank you so much for helping me with this.”  
She shrugged, sliding the $20 off the counter. You rifled through your pockets, placing a copy of their address in the same space.  
“Do you want to include a card?” She asked, making the address disappear too.  
You tipped your head, thinking for a moment. “’Thanks for the invitation but I can’t make it, figured I’d send flowers in my place’?”  
She nodded, jotting it down. “I’ll rewrite it for the card, make it elegant.”  
“Thank you. And thank you for all this.” You gestured at the flowers. “It’s beautiful, and… apt.”  
She chuckled. “Thank you, I am happy to help.”  
You hesitated for a moment. “I’m (Y/N).”  
“Nadia.” She extended her hand you felt a tiny thrill in your stomach as you shook it.  
“I’ll, uh.” You paused, the small smile creeping back across your face. “I’ll be back for my flower needs in the future. Thank you, again.”  
She nodded, waving as you left the store.  
You blamed the brisk air for the flush growing on your cheeks.  
*  
The jingle of the flower shop’s door was a sweet sound and it brought a smile to your face. Nadia looked up from behind the counter, her face going from warm to pleasantly surprised.  
“Hey Nadia!” You called, giving her a small wave.  
“Hello (Y/N). How have you been?” She smiled.  
You shrugged. “Can’t complain. Yourself?”  
“Surviving. The closer we get to February, the more I dread coming in.” You both laughed, and you shook your head.  
“I can only imagine how crazy Valentine’s Day is for you.”  
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll manage, somehow.”  
“Is it just you…?” You asked, looking around the store curiously. You were the only ones inside.  
She shook her head. “I have a few staff. When it gets truly busy, though, my sisters come to help me.” She sighed.  
You held up a finger. “Hang on, there’s a lot to unpack there. You own the shop?”  
She nodded.  
“Okay. I- Congrats, your shop is amazing. Second, based on your face, how helpful is it actually having your sisters here?”  
She dipped her head in acknowledgement of your compliment. “Having them is surprisingly helpful. They can be a handful, but they really do their best to help.”  
You nodded. “Awesome, I’m glad your family pulls together for you.”  
“Me too.” She quirked a small smile. “Did you hear anything about that bouquet we put together?”  
“You mean the masterpiece you made?” You grinned. “Naw, they didn’t say anything to me, but a mutual friend said they posted a photo of it on social media bragging about how beautiful it is. Didn’t mention me at all.”  
She rolled her eyes. “What a pair of-“ Your laughter cut her off and she gave you a bemused smile, raising a curious eyebrow.  
“Hey, I got a fierce florist in my corner out of the deal. Pretty sure I’m winning here.”  
She blushed, glancing down before she cleared her throat and leaned forward on the counter. “So, what message are we putting together today?”  
You pointed at a display of potted plants. “’I think you’re responsible enough to keep something alive, considering that I made it through my childhood in mostly one piece, and at least this time the thing you’re keeping alive has pretty flowers’.” Nadia laughed. “My mom’s birthday is coming up.”  
“May I suggest one of the cattleya orchids?” She came around the counter, directing you to a display. “They’re good houseplants, with proper care they’ll bloom at least annually, and they’re quite lovely.”  
“What do they mean?” You gave her a teasing smile.  
“Mature charm.” She raised an eyebrow at your snort.  
“Are you implying that I’m old, making statements like that about my mother?” You grinned.  
“Hardly. I’m just quite confident that raising someone as firey as you would guarantee one’s maturity.” She sniffed, her attempt at looking haughty undermined by the teasing grin that was breaking through.  
You laughed, shrugging helplessly. “Well, you’ve got me there. I guess we’re going with the orchid, oh floral master. Would you like to do the honors?”  
“She’s your mother, shouldn’t you pick the flower?” She tipped her head.  
“I defer to your expertise.” You half-bowed, fanning your hands out to her.  
She chuckled, turning her attention to the plants and rubbing her chin thoughtfully. Finally she reached forward, selecting one and leading the way back to the counter. She pulled out a pamphlet seemingly from nowhere, sliding it towards you.  
“Care and feeding guide.”  
You nodded, placing it carefully in your coat pocket and pulling out your wallet. “Thank you.”  
“Of course.” She wrapped the orchid carefully, smiling at your amused expression. “Protection from the cold. I assume you have a little ways to go.”  
You nodded. “You think of everything.”  
She shrugged. “It’s what here for.”  
“And we’d all be lost without you, truly.” You grinned.  
She rolled her eyes, but she smiled.  
“I’ve got to go, got a couple more errands before I’m done.” You raised your hands defensively at the look on her face. “My next stop is somewhere safe and indoors for the orchid, don’t worry.”  
“Good.” She nodded. “Don’t be a stranger.”  
“I won’t, I promise.” You grinned. “See you later, Nadia.”  
She hummed, smiling, and waved.  
*  
“What can I get for-“ The question died in your throat and you blinked. “Hi, Nadia.”  
The purple haired woman standing on the other side of your counter also blinked, before breaking into a smile. “(Y/N)! I didn’t know you worked here.”  
“Every afternoon since time immemorial. Mazelinka’s got her hooks in me, I never stood a chance.” You grinned. “Why haven’t I seen you in before?”  
She shrugged. “I usually only have time to stop by in the mornings.”  
You raised an eyebrow and she sighed.  
“Two of my sisters are in helping me get orders together and they insisted on sending me for a coffee run to get me out of the store for a moment.” She rolled her eyes before wincing faintly. “I think they’re just hoping the caffeine solves my headache.”  
“We’ve got some ibuprofen, if you think that would-“ You trailed off as she shook her head.  
“Already took some.”  
You frowned. “Been drinking water?”  
She nodded. “They come and go, I’ve rather gotten used to them.” She blinked, her face lighting up. “Oh! I haven’t seen you since- Thank you so much for sending that bouquet of little alcohol bottles for Valentine’s Day, it made getting through the orders much easier for all of us.”  
You blushed, nervously scuffing your foot behind the counter. “No problem, I’m glad it helped.” You hesitated for a second, searching for something more to say. “And I really hope the caffeine helps with your headache, what can I get started for you?”  
She sighed, biting her lip in thought. “Three dirty chai’s, please. All mediums.”  
“Can do.” You grabbed a trio of cups, scribbling on the sides and sliding them down towards Ketos, who was cleaning the counter and watching you out of the corner of their eye with obvious amusement.  
You accepted her money, counting out the change before ducking behind the pastry case. Nadia raised a clearly amused eyebrow, watching you grab a loaf of pumpkin bread and drop it into a small bag. You stepped back to the register, holding the bag out to her.  
“You might also just be hungry.” You smiled at her bemused look. “It’s all good, it’s on me.”  
“You don’t have to-“  
“I’d like to. I will feel better knowing that we have attempted every possible headache fix that I can think of.”  
She smiled faintly, finally accepting the bag. “Thank you.”  
“Quite welcome. What’s got you pulling in the extra help?”  
“A wedding.” She sighed. “A rather large wedding. Tomorrow. That is only three-quarters done and I am only mostly at the point of pulling my hair out, truly.”  
You snorted. “I have full faith in you and your sisters being able to pull it off.”  
“Thank you.” She smirked. “I appreciate your confidence.”  
Ketos set the cups down between you, all firmly lodged in a carry out tray. You grinned at them.  
“Thanks boss. You got this, Nadia?”  
She nodded, setting the bag of bread down on the empty holder. “I think I do. Thank you.”  
“Of course. Happy… florist…ing.” You flushed, giving her a shy grin.  
She laughed. “Happy barista-ing.” She grabbed the tray and carefully opened the front door, pushing it shut with her hip.  
Ketos glanced at you, smirking.  
“We’re… friends. I told you, she made the ‘go fuck yourself’ bouquet.” You said, defensively.  
Ketos nodded, raising their eyebrows, and turned back to the espresso machine.  
You sighed, feeling your cheeks heat up.  
*  
You slipped into the flower shop, the bell over the door giving away your presence. Nadia looked up, her face lighting up with a smile as she saw you, and she gave you a quick nod before turning back to the older gentleman she was helping.  
“-and a couple of these. What do you think?” She brandished the rough bouquet and he nodded slowly.  
“That’s perfect, thank you.”  
Nadia nodded once and smiled. “Let’s get it all put together, then.” She led the man back to the front of the store and you drifted between displays, finding your attention drawn to a pair of lilies. You listened to the sound of Nadia’s conversation with the man, missing the words but enjoying the happy tone of their voices. The till dinged as they reached the end of their transaction and you perked up a little, exchanging a nod with the man as he walked past you and out the door. The bouquet of flowers tucked into the crook of his arm was bright and beautiful and brought a small smile to your lips.  
Nadia drifted over to you as you contemplated a display of succulents.  
“Shopping for another birthday?” She asked, amusement coloring her tone. “Or considering taking up gardening yourself?”  
“Naw.” You shook your head. “They’re just pretty.”  
She nodded. “Have you?”  
“Have I what?”  
“Considered taking up gardening?”  
You hesitated before holding your hand up, tipping it side to side. “I have, but plants seem so… needy.”  
“Some more than others.” Nadia smiled faintly. “They all have different care levels. You can try to adjust yourself to their needs, or just find one that fits into your life as it is.”  
You raised a dubious eyebrow at her and she laughed.  
“Take this one, for example.” She pointed at one of the succulents, thick leaves jutting out like spines. “Aloe vera likes the temperature most apartments are at already, it only needs to be watered around every three weeks, and it’s perfect for treating burns.”  
You glanced at the mostly healed burn on your arm and gave her a guilty, lop-sided grin. “I’m sure that wasn’t a pointed suggestion.”  
“And I am sure you don’t work with in close quarters with a lot of hot metal pieces.” She glanced at you, eyebrow quirked.  
You shrugged. “Point taken.” You lifted the little aloe plant, studying it closely. “Water every third week?”  
“Yes. Keep it in sunlight.”  
“I’ve got a windowsill it’ll love.” You sighed, smiling at her and holding the plant a little closer. “If you’re going to twist my arm about it, I suppose I’ll have to take it.”  
Nadia lit up. “Wonderful, I am deeply reassured that you will be properly treating those burns.” She grinned at your eyeroll. “Now, what did you actually come in for?”  
You shrugged, blushing. “I was thinking about picking something up to brighten up my apartment. Pretty sure this counts.” You gestured to the plant in your hand. “The bouquet you put together for that guy looked gorgeous.”  
“Thank you.” Nadia blushed faintly. “It was his anniversary with his husband, I tried to make it special.”  
“You succeeded. Did it say anything?” You winked and she laughed.  
“Maybe a little. The carnations were for passion and the stephanotis for happiness in marriage.”  
You laughed, shaking your head, and she gently bumped you with her shoulder.  
“I spent all this time learning what they mean, I may as well get some use out of it.” She laughed.  
You blushed faintly, enjoying the contact of her shoulder more than you realized you would, and swallowed before nodding. “I- I suppose that’s fair.”  
“Thank you.” She grinned. “Have you-“  
The chime of the bell over the door cut her off and she glanced at the woman walking in with a smile.  
“I’ll get out of your hair.” You gently nudged her back and she glanced at you with a pleased look on her face. “How much do I owe you for the aloe?”  
“It’s on the house, on the condition you actually use it to treat those burns.” She gave you a look you couldn’t quite interpret. “Have a good afternoon.”  
“You too.” You gave her a lopsided grin. “Thanks, Nadia.”  
She hummed, smiling, and turned to her new customer.  
*  
You gripped the bundle behind your back a little tighter, taking a deep breath to steady yourself before you pushed open the door. The familiar little chime heralded your appearance and you exhaled in a sigh of relief as you realized the store was empty. Nadia looked up, smiling and waving when she saw you.  
“(Y/N)! Good morning.” She stepped out from behind the counter, raising an eyebrow at the arm behind your back.  
“I, ah… That is to say… You…” You sighed, closing your eyes for a long moment before bringing your arm around. “These are for you.”  
Nadia’s eyebrows went up as she regarded the camellias you held out to her, their white petals almost glowing in the light of the shop. She took the small bouquet from you, turning it as she examined it in bemusement.  
“Do you know how hard it is to find camellias around here?” She asked, not looking up from the flowers.  
“Yes. I am very, very familiar with how hard tracking these down were.” Nadia looked up at you and you rubbed the back of your neck, grinning sheepishly. “I had to pay this old woman to let me cut them from her garden. Wound up staying for tea, she makes some mean biscuits.”  
Nadia laughed, walking back behind the counter to grab a vase for the flowers. “Thank you, for the flowers and for the quest you went to get them.” She set them on the counter next to the till, fussing with them until they were sitting to her liking. She hesitated for a moment, looking back to you with a curious expression on her face.  
“Why did you go through such trouble to find these flowers specifically?” She asked carefully.  
“Ah.” You swallowed. “Well.” You could feel the blush on your cheeks starting to creep towards your chest. “You see.” You coughed, then took a deep breath. “I heard that white camellias stand for adoration, and I- Uhm… I really think you’re…” You were floundering under her gaze. “You’re really spectacular…”  
She tipped her head, walking around the counter as she watched you. You hardly dared breathe as she stepped closer to you, leaning forward to gently kiss your cheek.  
“I think you’re pretty spectacular, too.” She said softly. You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out between your lips. Her lips quirked up in a smile and she stepped back.  
“Do you work at the coffee shop tonight?” She asked. You shook your head. “Would you like to go get dinner?”  
“I would like that very much.” The words came out of you in a tumble and you laughed again.  
Nadia smiled. “I can leave my sisters to close tonight. Would 6pm work?”  
You nodded, then blinked. “Your sisters are here?”  
As if on cue, two women stepped out of the back room. One of them had golden hair, buzzed tight on one side, and piercing eyes. The other had flowing orange hair and a smile that outshone the sun. Nadia closed her eyes for a long moment before turning to them.  
“Sister!” The orange-haired one called. “Those flowers are beautiful, where did they come from?”  
Nadia gestured to you. “(Y/N) brought them in for me.”  
The golden-haired one raised an eyebrow, obviously amused. “Camellias are awfully hard to find around here.”  
You grinned, hoping you looked relaxed. “You’re telling me, it took most of a day to track them down.”  
Nadia gestured to the pair of them. “(Y/N), meet my sisters Nahara and Navra.” You waved. “We need to finish the orders we’re putting together. I’ll see you tonight?”  
“6pm, I’ll be here.” You nodded, allowing her to gently usher you out of the store and waving a farewell to her sisters. They waved back, obviously enjoying Nadia’s slight discomfort.  
Nadia propped the door open on her foot, leaning out to place one more kiss on your cheek with a playful smile before ducking back into the shop.  
The door swung shut behind her and you couldn’t help the silly grin spreading across your face.


	4. Asra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asra – Coffee Shop – ‘I do great latte art but I always get too nervous making yours and mess it up’

You tilted the coffee cup towards you, holding your pitcher of steamed milk steady as you swung it back and forth. The rosette was crisp, lines of white milk flowing back on themselves like the leaves of some soft plant and you smiled as you set the cup on your tray, right between the cups containing a heart and a tulip.  
It had taken time and practice and pawning so many ‘failed’ cups of coffee off on your roommates that they’d banned you from using the espresso maker at the apartment for weeks, but it had all been worth it. Your latte art was consistent and pretty, you were even starting to experiment with new shapes (you’d managed a swan last week that had brought a tear to Ketos’ eye, though they’d never acknowledge it).  
You dropped the coffees off at their table, listening to the pleased sounds of your customers as they looked over your work. Ketos was cleaning the counter when you stepped back behind it, watching you with an amused smile.  
“What?” You asked self-consciously.  
They shook their head. “What am I going to do when you switch to mornings and I can’t count on your latte art to draw in the crowds for me?”  
You shrugged, starting to restock around the espresso machine. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Prize drawings, maybe. Or a concert.”  
“I could just take on another apprentice.” They snorted.  
You pressed your hand to your chest, feigning hurt. “You wound me, boss. Could you replace me so quickly?”  
Ketos eyed you appraisingly, tipping their head to the side before shrugging. “I could teach the skill but not your panache. They wouldn’t be the same.”  
“See.” You grinned. “You’re going to miss me when I switch, nobody can replace my panache.”  
Ketos grunted, but a smile was tugging at the corners of their mouth. “I suppose.”  
You laughed, leaning over to bump them with your shoulder. “I’ll miss you too, boss.”  
They glanced at you, snorting faintly in amusement, before turning their attention to the man walking in the door. You followed their gaze and felt your stomach twist.  
Asra, the AM shift lead and your only possible problem with changing your hours, gently shut the door behind him before turning his sunny smile on the pair of you. Ketos nodded their head, you managed a small wave.  
It wasn’t that you disliked Asra, the issue was quite the opposite. You’d had a crush on him since your first day at the shop and being around him made you… nervous. Most of your interactions were limited to shift changes, so the amount of time you spent as a shaky-handed, word-vomiting, blushing mess was blessedly short. If Asra had noticed he hadn’t mentioned it, and you weren’t sure if it was worse for him to think you were simply a disaster person or only a disaster person around him.  
How you were going to manage for eight hours every shift, without accidentally setting the shop on fire, was beyond you.  
“Ketos, (Y/N).” He greeted, stepping up to the counter. “How’s the afternoon?”  
Ketos shrugged. “Nothing special. How’s the day off?”  
“Productive.” Asra smiled. His attention shifted to you and you felt a flush start on your cheeks. “Excited to come to mornings, (Y/N)?”  
You nodded, swallowing and trying to find your voice. “I- Ah, yeah, I mean, I’ll miss Ketos and the afternoon crowd, but I think mornings are going to be good.”  
“We’re glad to have you. What’s got you making the change?”  
“Class schedule.” You shrugged.  
“Oh, what are you going to school for?”  
“Just, ah, picking up some classes. Thinking about degree programs, but I’m not… I don’t know which one yet.”  
Asra nodded, looking very serious. “Which ones are you thinking of?” Ketos was leaning on the counter, watching your obvious discomfort with bemusement.  
“I- I mean, I was thinking… Ah-“ You floundered, all thoughts of your future career paths draining out of your skull just as you needed them.  
Ketos leaned forward, giving you a furrow-browed look before turning their attention to Asra. “You’ll have plenty of time to ask your questions once (Y/N) forsakes me and joins your shift. I want to go over the order I’m putting in while I have you.”  
Asra tipped his head, giving you gentle smile. “Fair.”  
“Want something?” Ketos jerked their head towards the espresso machine. Asra paused for a moment.  
“Sure! Can I get a small latte?”  
Ketos nodded, looking at you, and you blushed before grabbing a cup and busying yourself with making the drink. Over the rumble of the grinder and the hiss of the steam wand, you caught snippets of the two of them catching up about the coffee shop and recent changes. Mazelinka was off on one of her ‘product trips’ and the pair of them took every opportunity to check in with each other when she was gone.  
You paused as you lifted the pitcher of milk, remembering how every time you’d tried to make coffee for Asra none of the designs you’d tried had worked out right.  
This time was going to be different. You were going to take a deep breath, center your mind, and prove that you’d survive the AM shift just fine.  
Your wrist moved steadily, starting a solid foundation for the rosette.  
Asra laughed at something Ketos said, the musical sound making you jump.  
The rosette slid off-sides, not forming itself into anything resembling a laurel. Instead, it just looked lopsided. You sighed, accepting defeat, and finished it with a lackluster flourish.  
You slid the cup across the counter to Asra, pointedly ignoring Ketos’ double take as they noticed the design. Asra glanced at it before beaming at you.  
“Thank you, (Y/N).” He turned back to Ketos and you slipped into the back to grab some things from dry storage.  
You certainly weren’t hiding.  
*  
You spent your two days off trying to shift your sleep schedule, to moderate success. You mostly sleep-walked through your first shift and couldn’t have remembered the details from it if you’d been offered money. The second and third days went similarly. By the fourth, you were starting to sleep properly again and actually remembered things. The fifth almost felt like a normal shift.  
Your second week, you were starting to feel like a person again. With your return to person-hood, however, you started retaining memories of your conversations with Asra and you hadn’t yet decided if that was a good thing. He’d been gentle with you the first few days, using small words and clear sentences, not asking you too many questions. Once you’d started speaking in full sentences again it had been game on, and he’d started trying to pull you into full conversations.  
“-got back from the library, I took Faust for a walk through the park since the weather was so nice. Oh, and Muriel gave me another recipe to try so I did a little baking.” Asra sighed. “It turned out pretty good, but it’s never going to rival what Muriel does.” You nodded, Muriel’s baking was legendary. “So, what did you do last night?”  
Your brain froze and you made an extended soft ‘uh’ sound as you tried not to panic. “Went for a walk and made some dinner and worked on an essay?” It came out as a question. You blinked, trying to regain your composure.  
“What’s your essay on?” Asra leaned forward, eyebrow raised.  
“Ah- it was open choice in our history class, so I went with the radium girls. It’s a little morbid, but…” You trailed off, feeling the heat of a blush starting on your chest.  
Asra tipped his head. “The radium girls?”  
“Yeah.” Mentally, you latched onto the synopsis you’d put together at the start of your essay. It sounded intelligent, if you could just repeat it… “There were three factories in the early 1900’s that employed women to coat watch faces in radium-based paint to make them glow, and they’d ‘point’ their brushes on their lips which caused them to ingest lethal doses of radium. It became an important historical incident for labor rights and for health physics.” It might have been the most you’d managed to say to him.  
He blinked, his face slowly falling. “That’s… that’s horrific. Did they know what was happening?”  
You shook your head, wincing faintly. First real conversation and you’d manage to turn it to worker abuse and radium poising. Good job, self. “They, uh, no. They’d been told the paint was safe.”  
Asra’s face fell further and you frantically tried to think of a way to salvage things.  
“It was awful, but individuals being able to sue companies for damages over labor abuse became a thing because of their case and industrial standards were raised afterwards. Which by no means justifies it.”  
Asra tipped his head and, before he could say anything, you leapt on the first conversation change you could think of.  
“How did Faust like the park? Were the trees blooming?” Your face was so warm, you were sure your cheeks had turned bright pink.  
Asra gave you the out. “Faust loves the park, it’s one of her favorite places. The dogwoods and the cherry trees were blooming, I let her play on a couple of the low-hanging branches.” He smiled fondly, before brightening. “I have some photos, if you’d like to see?”  
“Yes.” You took a deep breath, Asra looked a little startled at the suddenness of your response. “I’d love to.”  
He pulled his phone out, taking only a moment to find the photos he was looking for. He turned the phone towards you with a doting smile on his face. The image of a lavender corn snake, surrounded by pastel flowers and looking amused, brought a smile to your face and you couldn’t help laughing.  
“She looks so happy.” You chuckled.  
Asra grinned, sliding to the next photo.  
*  
As the morning rush finally petered out, you let out a soft sigh. Tipping your head to look at the ceiling, you counted slowly to five before turning back to the espresso maker to start wiping it down.  
Asra stepping up next to you stopped you short. You looked at him, eyebrow raised in a question.  
“I was up late last night, drying flowers.” He looked sheepish. “I’m still dragging a little. Would you mind making me a latte?”  
You nodded. “Sure, what size?”  
“Small, but with two extra shots.”  
You grabbed the cup, taking care to make sure everything about pulling the shots was perfect and the milk was steamed just the right amount. Holding the cup in one hand and the pitcher in the other, you closed your eyes and sighed again. Today was the day. Today, you were going to do a simple heart and it was going to be beautiful. You opened your eyes, took a breath, started to pour and-  
Asra stepped behind you, reaching around you to grab something off the counter. His sudden nearness came with a rush of air that smelled like spices and dried herbs, and something a little earthier. His close proximity and the rush of smells buffeting you caused you to falter, distracted, and your hand moved a little too soon to compensate. You looked down, emotionally preparing yourself for whatever undiscernible mass you’d managed to produce this time.  
You blinked.  
This was… This was not an undiscernible mass, like the wilted tulip you’d made weeks ago or your lopsided rosette.  
This had the beginnings of a heart, and defined shape.  
You rotated the cup, willing it into abstract obscurity.  
Despite the new angle, the penis you’d managed to pour stayed infuriatingly visible.  
You tilted the cup, the foam didn’t move.  
You bit your lip, swallowing a sigh, and slid the cup towards Asra. Maybe you’d get lucky, maybe he wouldn’t see it. From the corner of your eye, you watched his graceful fingers curl around the cup and hesitate before pulling it out of your sight.  
Fuck. He’d noticed, then.  
You bit your tongue, trying to will the embarrassed blush on your face away as you turned to the espresso machine and focused every inch of your being on wiping it down.  
You made it through the next two mini-rushes of customers before Asra sidled up to you.  
“Your coffee is sublime.” He said quietly, making an effort to keep his voice from carrying. You swallowed, trying to steel yourself for whatever horribly embarrassing conversation this was going to lead into. “Have you considered learning about making those designs on top, with milk?”  
You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling a flush rise on your chest. You didn’t want to lie, but you couldn’t think of a way to phrase ‘you smell really nice and I got distracted by it and that’s why I gave you a cup of coffee with a dick on it’ that sounded… well, not like that.  
“I’ve… thought about it.” You sighed, hating the half-truth.  
“Would you like me to show you a few things? Nothing fancy, just a couple of tricks?” He was being so kind, so earnest in his desire to help you learn. You cringed inwardly.  
“I, uhm, really appreciate the offer, that’s really sweet of you. Maybe after I’m done with this next paper? I don’t think my brain could take any more information being thrown at it right now.” You laughed, the sound falling short to your ears, but Asra smiled like the sun.  
“Okay, deal.” He hesitated for a moment, eyeing you. “Is this paper as… morbid as the last one?”  
“No!” You held up your hands defensively. “Not nearly, this is for biology and it’s really… It’s kinda cool, I think you might actually like it.”  
He tipped his head. “What’s it on?”  
“Blaschko’s lines.”  
“What are those…?” He raised an eyebrow.  
“They’re people-stripes.” He blinked, bemused. “They’re dermatological lines that follow the migration of embryonic cells.”  
He held his arm up, rotating it as if looking for stripes before looking back at you.  
“They’re not visible normally, but some people have skin conditions the run along the lines and you can see them under UV lights.”  
“That’s… huh.” Asra tipped his head, considering. “That’s really interesting. What do they look like?”  
“Here.” You pulled your phone out, pulling up the reference photos you’d saved. “Like this.”  
Asra hummed, leaning closer, and you caught another whiff of the earthy, herbed smell he was cloaked in. Your stomach fluttered and you tried to will away your blush.  
“Fascinating.” He mumbled.  
“Yes, well.” You gulped, tucking your phone back in your pocket so he’d stop leaning so close. “There’s a lot of species that have stripes, it kinda fits that we would too, you know?”  
He chuckled. “True.”  
“Speaking of striped species, how’s Faust?”  
He lit up. “She’s doing very well. I got a new branch for her enclosure and she spent hours nudging it to get it where she likes it.”  
You laughed. “Really?”  
“Really, she’s very particular. I can only do so much, she rearranges everything I give her.” He rolled his eyes, smiling fondly. “I got her a little cave once and she spent weeks getting it just-so. Every time I tried to help her get it where she wanted it, she’d get so mad she wouldn’t let me pick her up for hours.”  
“She sounds like she’s got quite the personality.” You grinned.  
He laughed. “That’s nothing.”  
The rest of your shift passed too quickly, Asra regaling you with stories about Faust between customers.  
*  
You grabbed the last cup of the morning rush and bit back a laugh. ‘Asra’ it said, followed by ‘please work your magic, I am so tired’.  
You looked up, catching the puppy-dog eyes he was giving you, and laughed.  
“Another late night drying flowers?” You asked, knocking out the last drink’s coffee grounds.  
He shook his head. “Got a new book and stayed up too late reading.”  
“What’s it about?”  
“A history of magicians.”  
“Oh, so like you.” You laughed when he rolled his eyes.  
“I’ve told you, I’m not a magician.”  
“You fixed Ladon’s back pain.”  
“I didn’t fix it, I alleviated it with a simple tincture.”  
“You know who uses the word tincture? Magicians.”  
He groaned, eliciting another laugh from you.  
“So, the magician bought a book about magicians. Why?” You glanced at him as the shots poured.  
He shrugged. “It’s an interesting history.”  
“Yeah? Tell me some of it.”  
“You know about the philosopher’s stone, right? Can turn metal into gold?” He waited until you nodded to continue. “A precursor to it is the philosopher’s tree, better known as Diana’s tree. It’s crystalized silver, obtained from mercury in a silver nitrate solution, and it looks like a tree. Sometimes it even forms little fruits on its branches.”  
He waited until you’d finished steaming the milk, the steamer wand being too obtrusive to talk over.  
“Because the form the silver took looked so much like a tree, it led pre-modern chemical philosopher’s to theorize that there was life in minerals.”  
You nodded, worrying your lip as you considered. “Okay, that is pretty interesting.”  
Asra beamed.  
You glanced at the pitcher of frothed milk. You could ask Asra to show you some of his latte art tips, probably drawing him into standing close to you again. You felt your face start to heat at the thought. At the same time, that would be playing into the lie that you didn’t know how, and you’d managed to not dig that hole too deeply so when he inevitably found out that you really did know…  
You sighed, dumping the milk into the cup with the espresso. Inelegant, but it solved your internal dispute.  
You handed Asra the cup, his fingers brushing yours as he took it, sending a little electric tingle up your arm.  
You were definitely blushing now. You turned back to the espresso machine, wiping off the steamer wand.  
The sound of a noisy sip came from Asra’s general direction, contented sigh followed a moment later.  
“That’s perfect.” You wouldn’t describe his tone as dreamy but it was getting close. You snorted softly.  
“Thanks.” You shot him a smile before turning back to cleaning the machine.  
The rest of the shift ebbed and flowed, you and Asra following the steps of a dance when it was busy and cooing over photos of Faust when it wasn’t. The morning passed in a pleasant blur, giving way to afternoon, and Ketos’ entrance caught you by surprise.  
You glanced at the clock, frowning. “You’re early.” You called in greeting.  
“I’m always early.” They observed.  
“Earlier than usual.” You shrugged.  
They looked sheepish for a moment, before their expression returned to its usual vague amusement. “I’m here for coffee.”  
You grinned. “Miss me so much already? Coffee just isn’t the same without my special touch?”  
“No, I just finally think you’re awake enough to not fuck it up.” They were close enough to the counter that their barb was delivered in an undertone that wouldn’t carry to the customers scattered around the café. Your laughter, however, rang through the room and earned a couple of glances.  
“Ow, but fair. You want the usual?”  
Ketos nodded, heading behind the counter as Asra stepped out of the kitchen. The white haired man brightened, smiling.  
“Good to see you, Ketos. I assume you’re why I heard (Y/N) laugh?”  
Ketos shrugged, nodding. “How’s the morning?”  
“Same as it usually is. How was closing yesterday?”  
“Same as it usually is. Mazelinka sends her love.”  
“Aw, did she call last night? How is the trip going?”  
“Good. She says she likes the farm she’s visiting, they’re working out specifics for the contract.”  
“Did she give you an idea of when we’d be getting the new beans, if everything goes well?”  
“A couple of months. You have time to plan your ‘new bean unveiling’ that you love doing so much.” There was obvious amusement in Ketos’ tone. When the first shipment of coffee beans from a new supplier arrived Asra loved to make a fuss over the first day of serving it, throwing up signs and drink specials and drawing as much attention to it as he could. Ketos was content to let him, it drew interest and sales and Ketos didn’t have to put any energy into it.  
Asra laughed. “I haven’t heard a complaint out of you about them.”  
You tipped the cup, automatically pouring a quick rosette before handing the cup to Ketos. They took it, nodding to you, before turning back to Asra. You turned to wipe down the steamer wand.  
“Nor will you.” Ketos shrugged, pausing to take a sip. “It’s effective.”  
Asra said nothing. You glanced at them- Ketos was leaning against the counter and Asra was staring at the cup they were holding, eyebrows furrowed.  
“Come on.” Ketos pushed off the counter. “I want a second set of eyes on this order. (Y/N) can watch the front for a few minutes.”  
Asra nodded, glancing at you with an expression you hadn’t seen before, following Ketos into the back.  
*  
Asra was unusually quiet the next morning, his usual enthusiasm replaced by subdued short sentences. Asking if he was feeling alright brought minimal results- he wasn’t sick and he’d slept enough, but he wouldn’t say what was wrong. He focused on the espresso machine, managing to avoid eye contact with you.  
You felt a knot of concern forming in your stomach.  
By the time the first rush was through, the knot had cemented.  
Asra was no closer to being his usual self, if anything he seemed even more withdrawn.  
You watched him from the corner of your eye as you cleaned the counter, trying to get a clue to what was going on. It was like watching a wall.  
The café was more quiet than usual and as the last customer walked out, you turned to Asra.  
“How’s Faust?” You tried, crossing your fingers that nothing was wrong with the snake.  
Asra shrugged. “Alright.”  
A tiny trickle of panic ran down your spine. If Asra wasn’t taking the opportunity to talk about Faust…  
“Asra.” You said his name a little louder than you meant to, a tiny note of desperation in your voice. “Something is obviously wrong, what’s going on? You can talk to me. I want to help.”  
Something flickered across his face before the stony look returned to his eyes and he shrugged.  
“Nothing’s wrong.” His voice was devoid of inflection.  
It hurt. You two had been getting closer since you’d changed to mornings, you were starting to not be so nervous around him, it almost felt like you were becoming friends. To get the cold shoulder suddenly left you feeling surprised and wounded. You didn’t know what had changed, racking your memory all morning had yielded nothing.  
There was a loud groan from the kitchen window, followed by heavy footsteps. The door separating the kitchen from the front counter banged open and Muriel stepped into the doorway, scowling.  
He glanced around the café, making sure it was empty before pointing at Asra.  
“You.” He shook his finger. “You are being childish. This solves nothing. Talk.”  
With that pronouncement, he turned and stomped back into the kitchen. The door swung shut behind him.  
You blinked. Turning back to Asra, you caught the stark surprise on his face before it changed to something resembling embarrassment. He cleared his throat, looking back to the espresso machine.  
“Why-“ He cleared his throat again. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew how to do latte art?”  
You felt your stomach drop. “What?”  
He hesitated for a moment before looking at you, confusion and hurt writ large on his face. “Yesterday, you put a perfect rosette in Ketos’ coffee. I thought you didn’t know how.”  
“Asra, I-“ You started. He shook his head, cutting you off.  
“You didn’t… It’s so stupid, but you never put anything on my drinks, except a dick, and you let me be an asshole and offer to teach you something you already know, you never told me you knew how, and I- I’m jealous, alright? I thought we were getting along, I thought we were friends, but if you like Ketos better than me-“  
You thumped your hand on the counter, the loud noise startling him into silence. “You make me nervous!” You didn’t mean to say it so loudly, but it felt so good to finally admit it. “You make me nervous and every time I tried to do anything fancy for you I just messed it up, or it accidentally turned into a dick, and I gave up! I don’t like Ketos more than you, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, I’m just sick of constantly messing up!”  
Asra blinked, processing. “I make you nervous?” He asked softly.  
You nodded, not trusting your words.  
“Why?”  
You looked at him. He still looked hurt and confused, but it was softer now. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes.  
“Because I really like you.” The words came out in a tumble. You opened your eyes slowly, watching his face change from confusion to understanding to surprise. “It’s unprofessional and I almost didn’t take the morning shift because of it. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable and I’ll go back to the afternoon shift, I’ll figure it out, I just-“  
Asra stepped forward and you stopped, biting your tongue as he reached out to take your hands. His skin was warm against yours, soft and strong, and you felt your heart beat a little harder.  
“I thought you didn’t like me.” His voice was tentative. “I thought that’s why you never talked to me when you were on the afternoon shift. When you started opening up after you changed shifts, I…” He sighed. “I’ve been really enjoying getting to know you, (Y/N). When I thought you still didn’t like me…”  
You laughed, a short, strangled sound. “Definitely not the problem.”  
He smiled. “I guess not.”  
You stared at each other for a long moment, his hands still wrapped around yours, before he leaned forward to rest his forehead on yours.  
“I think you are an amazing, intelligent person, (Y/N). I’ve been thinking about how lucky I am to be getting to know you, and I was… caught off-guard by how jealous I got yesterday. I don’t…” He pulled back, sighing, and on an impulse you leaned forward to kiss him. He stiffened in surprise, but before you could pull back he gently pulled you closer, releasing your hands to wrap his arms around you.  
“This is horribly unprofessional.” You whispered when you finally pulled back.  
“We can figure out shifts with Mazelinka later.” He mumbled, wrapping his hands back around yours, his usual sun-bright smile back on his face.  
You laughed softly. “Okay.”  
The kitchen door swung open, attracting your attention. Muriel stared at the both of you, looking decidedly unimpressed.  
“Good now?” He asked, glancing between the pair of you.  
Asra nodded. “Good now.”  
Muriel’s expression lightened. He watched you for a long moment before nodding and disappearing back into the kitchen.  
The door thumped shut and Asra laughed, shaking his head.  
“Don’t know what I’d do without him.” He chuckled.  
“He’s a good friend.” You squeezed his hands and Asra shot you an affectionate look.  
Whatever he was about to say was cut off by the front door’s jingle, announcing another customer. He released your hands, stepping back towards the espresso machine.  
“Would you like to get a late lunch after work and… talk?” He asked softly.  
You nodded. “I’d love that.”  
His smile this time was even brighter than usual, the sight of it warming your heart.


	5. Muriel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Muriel – Coffee Shop – “I like to write cute notes on your cup”

You flipped the lock as you closed the door behind you, giving it one solid pull to make sure it was secure. You were willing to deal with a lot of things from customers, but having one wander into the coffee shop before it was open expecting to be served was not one of them. It hadn’t happened yet and you intended to keep it that way.  
You dropped your coat and bag off in the small storage room, grabbing an apron. One of the oven timers went off in the kitchen and you smiled faintly.  
The kitchen door was silent as you pushed it open but Muriel looked up anyway. You gave him a tired grin, waving.  
“Good morning Muriel.” He grunted, jerking his head at you in greeting. “Coffee’ll be up in a bit.”  
You slipped behind the counter, turning on machines as you went. Counting in the till, starting the drip coffee urns and checking stock took enough time that the espresso machine was ready when you turned to it.  
If you made coffee for yourself first, no one could blame you.  
Muriel’s coffee was next, going into a take away cup with a lid so it’d be safe in the kitchen.  
You sipped your coffee thoughtfully, looking at his cup resting on the counter. Slowly, a smile crept across your face and you grabbed one of the markers out of the pen jar. The scrawl on the side of the cup was sloppy but legible, giving a visual to how sleepy you still felt.  
'your food is mug-nificent'  
You looked at the note for a long moment before nodding once and carrying it into the kitchen. Muriel glanced up, nodding to you before going back to arranging scones on a tray. You set the cup down in the usual spot, craning your neck to look at the scones.  
“Cheddar-bacon, blueberry and…” You frowned. “I don’t know that one.”  
“Lavender-earl grey.” He supplied, voice gravelly and quiet.  
You leaned a little closer and he glanced at you, brow furrowed. “Ooooo, you haven’t made that one before, have you?”  
Silently, he set one of the lavender-earl grey scones in front of you. You took it, sniffing it curiously. He gave you a look somewhere between amusement and exasperation. You took a bite off one of the corners, closing your eyes and humming in pleasure as the scone crumbled in your mouth.  
Muriel was staring at you, eyebrow raised, when you looked at him.  
“Perfect, as always. I like this combination, light but distinct.” You gave him a thumbs up. “Ten of ten, please make again.”  
He snorted, reaching past you for the coffee cup, but there was a small smile on his lips. You stepped out of his way, heading back towards the door.  
“I’ll share it with Asra!” You called over your shoulder. A grunt answered you and you let the door fall closed behind you.  
You took another bite and a long sip of coffee before starting on Asra’s drink for the morning.  
He walked in as you were putting the finishing touches on his drink, looking vaguely rumpled and tired. You waved in greeting, setting the coffee on the counter where he could easily reach it and placing half the scone next to it. He raised an eyebrow.  
“Muriel’s new recipe, flower and tea.” You liked making him guess what it really was, he was almost always right.  
He took a long drink of coffee first, before biting into the scone and sighing. “Lavender and early gray, my favorite.”  
“I shouldn’t be surprised.” You laughed softly.  
Asra shrugged, making his way towards the storage room. “Make best friends with a baker, maybe they’ll take your suggestions too.”  
“Why?” You called after him. “You already took the best one.”  
His answering laughter floated from the hall.  
Cita and Elka showed up soon after, bickering softly with each other as they headed for the kitchen. They rarely asked you to make coffee for them when they came in, you weren’t sure if they made something at home or if they were just naturally morning people and you were a little scared to ask.  
Muriel emerged from the kitchen soon after, carrying pastry-laden trays to the display case and arranging them carefully. Asra grabbed the pastry list from him, stepping around front with a dry-erase for the all-important task of labelling things. You’d elected him for the task because his handwriting always looked like filigree, elegant and legible no matter how sleepy he was when he wrote it.  
Trays set, Muriel stepped back to take in the layout and make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. You took a long sip of coffee, watching from the corner of your eye. Satisfied, he nodded once to himself before disappearing back into the kitchen.  
Asra stepped back, double-checking his writing, and looked to you with a sigh. “Ready?”  
“Bring on the hordes.” You nodded, smiling faintly.  
He snorted, unlocking the door and taking his post behind the counter.  
The morning rush started soon after.  
You and Asra flowed through steps like a dance, practice and familiarity giving the two of you a smoothness to your movements, and somewhere in all of it you finally woke up.  
As the rush trickled off, the final cup in a long line of coffee set on the counter for pick-up, you stretched and shot Asra a grin.  
“We made it.” You observed.  
“Knew we would.” He hummed, wiping down around the register. “We always do.”  
“Because we’re the dream-team.” You nodded, grinning.  
He chuckled. The kitchen door opening cut off any response he might have had. Muriel regarded the pair of you, eyebrow raised.  
“Headed out?” Asra asked. Muriel nodded. “Want anything before you go?”  
He considered for a moment before shaking his head. “Are you still coming for dinner?”  
Asra nodded. “Five, right? I’ll be there.” A ding from the bell in the kitchen window drew his attention and he waved to Muriel as he went to grab the order that had come up.  
Muriel stopped next to you, watching you with a small frown.  
You raised an eyebrow at him.  
“You wrote on my cup this morning.” He kept his voice pitched low, making sure only you could hear him. “Why?”  
You shrugged. “It was fun, and your baking is amazing. I feel like I don’t tell you that enough.”  
His cheeks started turning a dusty shade of pink and he frowned harder. You couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips, Muriel always blushed when you complimented him and it was one of your favorite things.  
He grunted, stepping past you.  
“Have a good day, Muriel!” You called after him.  
He waved over his shoulder.  
*  
“Good morning (Y/N)!” Asra called as you walked in. You grunted in greeting, wrapping your hands around the mug sitting in the middle of the counter and taking a long drink before heading towards the hallway.  
“Late night?” He called after you. You grunted again and he laughed.  
Swapping your coat for an apron only took a moment and you paused to take another long sip of coffee.  
“Started a new book and lost track of time.” You mumbled to Asra as you stepped behind the counter. “Got to bed around midnight.”  
He nodded, grinning. “That’ll do it. Worth it?”  
“So worth it.”  
“Did you finish it?”  
“Not even close.” You laughed. “I’m setting an alarm tonight so I actually get to bed on time.”  
He chuckled. “Wise. Muriel made stuffed croissants.” He slid a napkin with the pastry in question on it closer to you.  
You hummed, shoving it in your mouth and taking a massive bite. Yours eyes fluttered closed.  
Asra snorted. “Dramatic.”  
“Are you kidding?” You mumbled around the food. “This is amazing.”  
“You’re bought cheaply with food.”  
“Are you implying Muriel’s baking is cheap?”  
“No, I’m implying you’re a glutton.”  
“It’s like you’ve never eaten anything he’s made. It’s so good, Asra.”  
Asra rolled his eyes, laughing but not arguing, and stepped out from the counter to let the twins in. They were pressed against the door, and Elka was pawing at the glass pitifully. You snorted, taking another bite.  
Muriel stepped out of the kitchen, a tray in each hand, and raised an eyebrow at you. Mouth full, you pointed at the croissant and gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up. He made a small noise in the back of his throat, busying himself with the pastry case.  
You smiled faintly.  
There were some days that just looking at Muriel would get him flustered. It’s not that you liked to knock the giant man off-sides, you enjoyed him and would never want to make him uncomfortable, but there was something about how he could go from nothing to a bright blush in one sentence that you found incredibly sweet.  
Pastry case set, he ducked back into the kitchen. The sound of the twins chattering at him, loud and excited, drifted out as the door swung closed.  
You snorted.  
Asra leaned over the counter, grabbing the pastry list and a marker. You turned to double check the stock next to the espresso machine.  
Before you knew it, the doors were open and the sleepy masses were trudging inside.  
You blinked, hours later, and looked up at a store with a smattering of customers at tables and no line. Asra shot you an amused grin, recognizing your vaguely shell-shocked expression.  
You opened your mouth to say some something witty, trusting the words to come together as they fell out, but Muriel stepped out of the kitchen and you both turned to him.  
He looked tired.  
“Headed out?” Asra raised an eyebrow. He nodded.  
“Want anything before you go?” You asked, following the next part of the script. He and Asra had the same interaction every day when Muriel got off-shift, it was their little routine, and you’d slid right into it after your first week on mornings.  
Muriel paused for a moment before nodding slowly. “Please.”  
“Your usual?”  
He nodded again, stepping around the counter, and you set a cup next to the espresso machine as you ran the grinder.  
Elka hop-stepped out of the kitchen, waving to Muriel as you started the steamer wand. Slipping around the counter, Elka started gesturing broadly to Muriel, framing out some question.  
Muriel wasn’t paying you any mind. You poured the drink, popped the lid on, and slid the marker out of your apron.  
'have a brew-tiful day!'  
You set the cup on the counter and he nodded to you, taking it and turning back to Elka. You caught snippets of their conversation, something to do with the kitchen layout, as you wiped down the espresso machine. Finally, satisfied, Elka turned back to the kitchen and Muriel headed for the door. He hesitated after a couple steps, looking from the cup back to you.  
You grinned, waving, and the blush started creeping onto his cheeks.  
*  
You took a long sip of your coffee, staring at Muriel’s cup pensively as you tapped the marker on the counter.  
It had been two weeks. Fourteen days of puns on every cup of coffee you made for Muriel. He had huffed, blushed, scowled, and secretly smiled. You’d started running out, searching the internet for puns and writing down the ones you’d liked, but you’d forgotten the paper they were on at home and your memory was failing you.  
You sighed.  
'you mocha me happy'  
Looking over the scrawled words, you winced at their saccharine note. You’d made it a point to keep them silly, or to focus anything complementary on his baking. It was a fine line you walked with Muriel, teasing without crossing the unspoken line. Complimenting without saying how highly you thought of him. Flirting without actually acknowledging your crush on him.  
You blinked, startled at the thought. Frowning slowly, you grabbed the marker again.  
'your baking mocha me happy'  
The words were a little scrunched together, the grammar made you frown harder, but this was safe. This was inside the lines.  
Tucking the marker back in your pocket and collecting the cup, you made your way into the kitchen.  
Muriel was just pulling a tray of croissants out of the oven, setting them to cool next to the trays of scones he’d already pulled. You looked them over curiously as you walked the coffee cup to the normal spot.  
“Why are those two a different color?” You tipped your head, pausing next to the table and gesturing to the scones. Muriel shot you a guilty look.  
“Because they’re an experiment.” He mumbled.  
You hummed, looking a little closer. “What kind of experiment?”  
He tore off a length of parchment paper, wrapping the scones in it carefully before holding it out to you. His face was bright red.  
“Asra said you like chai. The lady who owns the feed store had a chai recipe. I made them for you.” Muriel forced the words out, easily the most you’d ever heard him say that wasn’t related to the kitchen, and he took a deep breath to replace the air he’d lost. He stared at you, bright red, still holding out the scones.  
Slowly, still processing his words, you took the wrapped scones. You pulled the paper back, tearing off a corner of a scone and popping it in your mouth. You blinked.  
“This is amazing.” You mumbled around the scone. Swallowing, you looked up at Muriel. “I- Thank you, Muriel, this might be one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever done for me.”  
You hadn’t realized it was possible, but he blushed harder.  
“Wait.” You tipped your head. “What- Why-“ You sighed, trying to pare down a half dozen questions into the most important one. “What were you doing at the feed store?”  
He glanced at his feet. “Getting feed for my chickens.”  
“You… You have chickens?” You were in a parallel universe. A parallel universe where the man you’d had a crush on for months actually told you personal details and made special scones, just for you. Or maybe you were dreaming. You drove a fingernail into your palm, just to check, and the pain didn’t wake you up.  
Parallel universe, then.  
He nodded, still looking faintly guilty. “Three of them. I built a coop behind my house.”  
“You.” You took a deep breath. Your walk to work had been normal, maybe you’d stepped into the parallel universe when you stepped into the café. “You have a house.”  
He nodded again, biting his lip this time and not offering up any more details.  
This was more than you’d gotten out of him ever. You were reeling. “I- Thank you. For the scones, they’re- They turned out great.”  
He smiled faintly, nodding.  
You retreated, pulling off another piece of scone as you stepped back through the kitchen door. Back behind the counter, back where things made sense.  
Asra was just stepping in, locking the door behind himself. His smile wavered when he saw you, concern pulling his brows together.  
“Are you alright?” He called in greeting. You nodded. “You look pale.”  
“I-“ You weren’t sure where to start. “I’ll tell you later, lemme get your coffee together.”  
He tipped his head but nodded, heading for the hallway. He paused at the end of the counter.  
“What’s that?” He asked, gesturing to the wrapped scones.  
You shook your head. “After.”  
When he came back from the office, you set his coffee in front of him. He drank it slowly, looking at you with concern but waiting for you to say something first.  
You took a long sip of your drink before turning to him with a sigh. “You told Muriel I like chai?”  
His face broke into a grin and he nodded.  
“Why?”  
“Because he asked.”  
You blinked. Asra shrugged, turning to count in the till.  
“He asked me what flavors you liked, and it was right after that day you drank like three chai’s. It was the first thing to spring to mind.”  
You rubbed your eyes. “I think I’m just lost around the part where he asked you that.”  
Asra snorted, trying to hide his smile. “Well, you have been writing on his cups.”  
“I know that, but I don’t see how we get special scones from me writing stupid notes on his coffee.” You sighed.  
“Special scones?” He raised an eyebrow. You gestured at the wrapped package and his smile got a little bigger. “Well. You’ve been doing something nice for him…”  
“I’ve been writing dumb puns on his coffee.”  
“That make him smile.”  
“And that equals out to special scones made special for me?”  
“It does to Muriel.” Asra shrugged.  
You stopped, processing again, and took a long sip of coffee to buy yourself a moment.  
“Okay. I- Okay.” You sighed. “You’re his best friend, I want best friend knowledge. What does this mean?”  
Asra shook his head. “Nothing’s changed. You’ve been doing something that makes him happy, he did something to make you happy. There’s nothing to change.” He paused, his grin taking on a wicked edge. “It’s not like you told him about your crush on him.”  
You lightly slapped Asra’s shoulder. “You shut up about that, he’s in the kitchen.” The white haired man laughed. “And furthermore I don’t know to what you are referring, sir.”  
“Fine.” He chuckled.  
There was a thump from the door and you took the opening to remove yourself from the conversation, striding quickly across the café to let the twins in. Cita bumped your shoulder affectionately in greeting and Elka waved, stifling a yawn.  
“Want some coffee?” You gave them a gentle smile, locking the door behind them.  
They nodded in unison. You laughed, heading back to the counter and grabbing a couple cups for them. The twins disappeared into the kitchen.  
Muriel came out, trays in hand, as you were putting the finishing touch on Elka’s drink. You shot him a soft smile. He started to smile back before realizing what he was doing, blushing, and turning back to loading the pastry case. You stifled a laugh, grabbing the drinks and heading into the kitchen.  
Elka and Cita looked up hopefully at your entrance, brightening at the sight of the cups in your hands. They descended upon you, grabbing the drinks, knocking back half of them, and resuming getting the kitchen put together. They moved in unison, the synchronicity half because they were so tired and half because they knew it made you a little unsettled. You shook your head, a faint smile tugging up your lips, and slipped back through the door.  
Muriel mumbled something, too quiet for you to catch, and Asra laughed. They looked up as you paused, Muriel blushed and ducked his head back into the pastry case. Asra just gave you a small grin, turning his attention back to writing on the glass of the case.  
You shook your head, grabbing the package of scones and taking it to the back storage room, smiling softly as you looked at them.  
*  
“Hey Muriel!” You called, poking your head through the door to the kitchen. “How are you?” He grunted, barely glancing up from his muffins. “How are your chickens?” The movement of his hands slowed and he looked up at you, eyebrows drawn together in confusion.  
“What?” He called back.  
“Your chickens! How are they?” You grinned.  
He blinked, answering slowly. “They’re… good?”  
“Good.” You nodded. “You’ll have to tell me about them, I have so many questions. I’ll have your coffee ready in a few minutes.”  
Muriel looked bemused as you ducked back out, taking another long sip of your coffee before grinding the beans for Muriel’s. You hummed softly to yourself as you put the drink together, enjoying the peace of the café before opening. A tiny smile tugged up the corners of your lips as you carefully poured the milk into Muriel’s drink, managing to replicate the simple heart Asra had taught you during a slow spell yesterday. You popped the lid into place, hiding the design, and pulled the marker out of your pocket.  
'thanks a latte- you’re the best'  
You slipped back into the kitchen, setting the coffee down in its spot, and turned to Muriel. He glanced at you, raising an eyebrow.  
“So, these chickens.” You grinned, taking a sip of your coffee. “You said you have three?”  
He blushed faintly, hesitating before nodding.  
“Do they have names?”  
He nodded again, carefully ignoring your curious eyebrow raise.  
“Have you had them long?”  
He nodded again, sighing. “A couple years.”  
“What breed are they?”  
He glanced at you, somewhere between exasperated and confused. “A brahma and two cochins.”  
You nodded, making a mental note to look those up later.  
“Do you have any other animals?”  
“I- yeah, I have a dog.” He sighed as you tipped your head. “Her name is Inanna.”  
“Aw.” You smiled. “You should bring her by the café sometime, I’d love to meet her.”  
Muriel stared at you, befuddled. You shrugged.  
“I like dogs.” You took a sip of coffee, pushing yourself off the counter you’d been leaning on and heading for the door.  
“Why-“ Muriel’s voice brought you up short. “Why are you asking me so many questions?”  
You looked back over your shoulder, studying his face. He looked confused, eyebrows drawn and a small frown on his lips, his cheeks were rosy with the start of a solid blush, and there was a glimmer in his eyes you’d never seen before.  
You tipped your head to the side, thinking.  
“Because I like you, Muriel, I think you’re a good person. But we’ve been working together for almost a year now and I know next to nothing about you.” You gave him a soft smile. “I like knowing things about you.”  
He opened and closed his mouth a couple times, looking startled, and you ducked back out the door before you could start blushing.  
Well.  
That was something that had come out of your mouth. There was no real coming back from that.  
Damn. You sipped your coffee, striding to the espresso machine and grabbing a cup a little more forcefully than you meant to- the stack of cups fell and scattered across the counter. You sighed, trying to beat down the emotional rush and still the slight tremor in your hands as you re-stacked the cups and started Asra’s drink. Making coffee was rote, you could lose yourself in the familiarity of it, not think about the fact you’d probably just spooked Muriel off for good.  
Asra walked in as you popped the lid onto his coffee, giving you a tired grin. You waved, a small gesture, and he grabbed the cup as he headed for the storage room.  
You puttered around the counter, setting everything up and then inching it a little to the left. You leapt on letting the twins in, fleeing to the front door as Muriel slid around the corner to the pastry case, looking at you contemplatively while trying to make himself as small as possible. You locked the door behind the twins, absentmindedly greeting them, watching Asra stop next to the giant baker and say something softly. Asra laughed at his own joke, coaxing a smile from Muriel, and you disappeared into dry storage in the back.  
You weren’t hiding.  
You weren’t.  
By the time you returned to the counter, precariously balancing stacks of dry-goods in your arms, Muriel and the twins had vanished into the kitchen and Asra was putting the finishing touches on the glass of the pastry case.  
He raised an eyebrow at your return. You ignored him, over-stocking everything behind the counter.  
He tucked his markers away, walking back behind the counter and slipping past you. You ignored him, shuffling the things arrayed around the espresso machine.  
He leaned against the counter next to the till, watching you with open amusement. You ignored him, finishing your rearranging and moving onto cleaning the espresso machine.  
He started to softly laugh. You shot him a poisonous look. He laughed harder.  
“Muriel said something?” You grumbled.  
He nodded.  
You frowned, half-scowling at him, but you knew the concern was evident in your face. “Best friend insider knowledge- did I fuck up?”  
Asra shook his head. “You caught him off guard. He’s not used to people wanting to get to know him, let alone approaching it quite so… brazenly.”  
You blushed, biting your lip. “He asked.”  
Asra snorted.  
The two of you shuffled around the counter in silence, getting the last things set up for the day. Finally, Asra turned to you as he was heading to unlock the door.  
“Just…” He hesitated, sighing. “Let Muriel come to you. He will.”  
You bit your lip, nodding.  
He unlocked the door, resuming his post by the register, and the first customers started to trickle in.  
The rush began shortly after.  
*  
You gave Muriel his space.  
Asra came in first the next few days, the task of making Muriel’s coffee falling to him, and Muriel didn’t get anything on his way out. You greeted each other, talked a little about work and you’d ask after the animals, but otherwise you left him alone. You fretted, of course, and Asra assured you it was fine, of course, and the days wore on.  
The twins arrived at the front door at the same time you did, Cita and Elka both ricocheting off you with their shoulder bumps of greeting. They slid past you into the café, greeting Asra and disappearing into the kitchen as you locked the door behind yourself. Asra waved when you turned around.  
A tiny smile flitted across your face and you waved back, grabbing the cup he set on the counter before walking to the back to drop your coat.  
You grabbed an apron, tying it on and grabbing your coffee from the shelf you’d set it on. You took a sip, closing your eyes and sighing, and turned around.  
Muriel was standing in the hallway, hand raised to knock, looking uncomfortable and uncertain.  
You pressed a hand to your chest, waiting for the sudden shock of adrenaline to leave your system. How Muriel managed to move silently had been a mystery since you’d started. Finally, heartrate back under control, you waved.  
“Hey Muriel. What’s up?”  
A faint blush started forming on his cheeks.  
“I-“ He huffed. “I made muffins. You should come get one.”  
“Awesome, thank you.” You gave him a tired smile, taking another sip of your coffee.  
Muriel didn’t move. You raised an eyebrow.  
He sighed, glancing at your feet. “I took photos of my chickens. Do you… Do you want to see them?”  
A tiny smile quirked up the corner of your lips- you hadn’t noticed crossing back into the parallel universe where Muriel offered personal details.  
“I’d love to.” You stepped into the hall. Despite his hand being raised to knock, Muriel was standing well back from the doorway. He was always careful to not cut off anyone exit when he could help it, and you’d found yourself appreciating his consideration more than once. You lead the way back behind the counter, stepping into the kitchen and propping the door open with your foot so Muriel could step through. He looked startled for a brief moment, then lead the way to where his phone was laying next to his coffee.  
He grabbed the cup, taking a nervous sip as he pulled up the photos on his phone. Cita and Elka glanced at the two of you, shooting each other a look before going back to setting up.  
“Here.” Muriel abruptly stuck the phone out, blush getting a little darker. On his screen were three chickens, one of them noticeably larger than the other two, playing in the grass in front of a beautiful wooden chicken coop. You beamed.  
“What beautiful girls!” You grinned.  
He frowned for the briefest of seconds. “They’re ladies.”  
You dipped your head. “Sorry- what lovely ladies. Is your brahma a little bigger than normal?”  
Muriel nodded. “She’s on the upper end of size for her breed.” He sounded so proud, flipping to the next photo. Still in front of the coop, the chickens had been joined by a rather large, wolfish looking dog.  
You pointed at the screen. “Inanna?”  
Muriel looked surprised that you remembered her name, nodding.  
“Where did you get the coop?”  
“I built it.” His blush deepened further. You whistled, leaning in to look a little closer.  
The sound of Elka’s hand slamming onto the prep table drew your attention and you spun to regard the twins. They were both staring at you.  
“You know about the chickens?” Cita called. You nodded.  
Elka whooped, whirling to face Cita. “You owe me! I called it!”  
Cita frowned, grumbling. “No barista has ever passed the Trial of the Golden Chicken.”  
“Asra.” Elka shrugged.  
Cita scowled. “Asra doesn’t count, he’s been to Muriel’s house.”  
Elka shrugged again. “Still. Pay up.” Cita mumbled something, pulling out a wad of cash.  
Muriel groaned, rubbing his face. “I wish you two would stop that. Or at least call it something else.”  
Elka snorted. “Morning kitchen staff isn’t proper staff until they’ve passed the Trial, it is a right of passage.”  
Tentatively, you raised a hand. “What is the Trial of the Golden Chicken?” Behind you, Muriel groaned again.  
Elka grinned. “The Trial is getting Muriel to open up enough that he brags about his chickens. No one in the kitchen is proper family until they learn about the chickens.” You raised an eyebrow. “If Muriel likes ‘em enough to tell ‘em personal things, then they can stay.”  
You thought about it for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, alright, that makes sense.” You turned back to find Muriel staring at you in betrayal. “Come on.” You laughed. “You’re a private person, and you’re a good judge of character. Using you as a test for the new hires makes sense.”  
He grumbled, setting his phone down and taking a long sip of coffee.  
“How long did it take to build the coop?” You tipped your head.  
“A week?” He shrugged.  
You nodded thoughtfully. “Thank you for showing me your animals. I’d better go help Asra finish opening.”  
He nodded, setting his cup down and grabbing a mixing bowl. You slipped out the door and back behind the counter.  
Asra raised an eyebrow at you.  
“Did you know about the Trial of the Golden Chicken?” You asked.  
He nodded.  
You snorted, turning your attention to setting up.  
You opened soon after and the rush was upon you.  
You were wiping down the espresso machine when Muriel came out of the kitchen, bag slung over his shoulder.  
“Heading out?” Asra called. Muriel nodded.  
“Want anything?” You tipped your head and he nodded again, this time blushing a little. “Your usual?”  
“Please.”  
You gave him a thumbs up, turning to grab a cup. Asra asked him a question, their conversation swallowed by the hum of the grinder. You caught Muriel scuffing his foot out of the corner of your eye, followed by Asra’s laugh, and you smiled as you set the shot to pour.  
“Would-“ Muriel’s voice was soft, coming from somewhere near your shoulder. You glanced at him, he was beet red. “Would you like to… meet the chickens?”  
You bit your lip, trying not to smile. “Only if I get to meet Inanna, too.”  
Muriel gave you a small smile, nodding. “Okay.”  
“I get out around one.” You started the steamer and he nodded.  
You finished putting the drink together, pulling a marker out of your apron and carefully writing on his cup. You turned, holding it out to him and Muriel raised his eyebrow. He accepted the cup, carefully turning it to look at your note.  
“What is this?” He asked.  
“My phone number.” You grinned. “Text me when I get out.”  
He blushed harder, nodding, and made a break for the door.  
You turned to find Asra grinning at you.  
“Shush.” You admonished, primly resuming your cleaning of the espresso maker.  
The day seemed to drag by, but eventually you found yourself set free and eventually your phone buzzed with an address and directions, and eventually culminated in you sitting in the grass in Muriel’s backyard watching the chickens scratch for bugs while Inanna demanded at least one hand be petting her at all times.  
You used the hand not currently buried in Inanna’s ruff to gesture to Muriel’s garden, continuing the conversation you’d dragged him into for most of the last ten minutes. “Okay, but, I have never seen a sun flower that large before. It’s bigger than my head. You claim to not be some kind of magic plant whisperer, but I’m pretty sure flowers like that are only attainable by blood pacts.”  
Muriel snorted, throwing another small handful of seeds towards the chickens. “It’s just good soil.”  
You hummed, narrowing your eyes in disbelief, and he laughed. The sound caught you off-guard and you blinked, before your face split in a grin.  
After a long moment, Inanna taking the conversational lull to plant her head in your lap and look up at you mournfully (you assumed it was a guilt trip for snacks and demonstrated that your hands were still empty, much to Muriel’s amusement), Muriel sighed. You looked over at him.  
He was staring at the ground, blushing. “I am… glad you are here. I like that you like knowing things about me.”  
You tipped your head, smiling faintly. “I like that you trust me enough to let me know things.”  
He was quiet again. You leaned back, bracing yourself on your free hand.  
“I like you.” He said very softly, catching you off-guard. You looked at him, startled, before slowly blushing.  
“I like you too.” You smiled faintly as Muriel’s head snapped up. He stared at you, startled, before a small smile bloomed on his lips.  
You sat in silence for another long moment before his hand slid over yours, gently curling around it. You leaned towards him, smiling as your shoulders bumped.


	6. Portia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Portia – Café – “You keep ordering black coffee and making a terrible face as you drink it, why are you doing this”

The door closed behind you and you waved to Asra, heading to the back to drop your things off. A quick glance around the café showed it was no busier than usual in the early afternoon, so you took a moment to tie your apron the way you liked and compose yourself before you headed back to the counter.  
“How was the morning?” You called to Asra in greeting. He shrugged, smiling.  
“The usual. The rush was a little more intense than normal.”  
“More people?”  
Asra nodded, turning to wipe down the espresso machine. “I think there was a lecture or something at the hospital, there were a lot of med students.”  
You tipped your head, nodding slowly. “Stands to reason.” You glanced at the clock. “Ketos gets in in an hour, right?”  
“Sick of me so soon?” Asra laughed. You rolled your eyes.  
“Hardly, just making sure I know when you’re going to abandon me so I can emotionally prepare myself.”  
“I’m not abandoning you, I’m leaving you in the capable hands of Ketos.”  
You hummed, shooting him a disbelieving look before the jingle of the bell over the door took your attention.  
You blinked.  
A short, vibrant woman was walking in, reddish brown hair piled wildly on her head. She tapped something on the screen of her phone, nodding once before slipping it into her pocket and turning the full force of her smile on you. You couldn’t help grinning back at her.  
“Welcome to Mazelinka’s! How are you?” You managed to keep your voice even.  
“Tired.” She laughed. “You?”  
“The same.” Your smile turned conspiratorial and she laughed again. “What can I get you?”  
She tipped her head to the side, thinking for a long moment. “A medium black coffee, please. For take away.”  
“Coming right up.” You turned on the ball of your foot, grabbing a paper cup and flipping the toggle on the coffee carafe. As you waited for the cup to fill you heard Asra make an amused sound behind you.  
“That’s not your normal order.” You glanced behind you. Asra was on his toes, peering over the espresso machine at the woman.  
She shrugged. “I’m trying something new.”  
Asra chuckled, nodding, before dropping back behind the machine.  
You popped the lid on, turning back to the woman to ring her in. She hummed and you glanced up, noticing her eyeing the pastry case.  
“Would you like to get something to eat as well? I can’t recommend the pumpkin bread highly enough.” She blushed as she looked back at you, you gave her what you hoped was a reassuring smile.  
“Yeah, alright.” She nodded. “I’ll take a pumpkin bread, since you speak so highly of it.”  
You packaged one up, the bread and her change disappearing into her bag. “Thank you.” She grinned, toasting you with her coffee cup.  
“Have a good afternoon.” You called as she stepped away from the counter.  
“You too!” She took a sip of the coffee, blinking rapidly as her nose wrinkled. She shivered.  
“You alright?” You called, eyebrows drawing together in concern.  
She turned back to you, blushing and nodding rapidly. “Yep! Totally fine! Absolutely nothing wrong. Great coffee, thank you!” With that, she ducked out the door.  
You blinked, perplexed.  
*  
“Hey, Ketos!” You called, leaning back until you could see their face. “Can you do me a solid and grab some more cups out of the back? We don’t have any 12oz stock left up here.”  
They nodded, setting down the milk pitcher they’d been polishing and heading for the back hallway. You stuck your head back under the counter, stretching your arm to run the sanitizer cloth along the joint of the shelf and wall. Asra had said it’d been an unusually quiet morning when you checked in with him over shift-change, the afternoon was shaping up to be the same. You’d taken the downtime and dug into deep cleaning the front counters. It wasn’t that they needed it per say, everyone was good about keeping things clean, but digging in once in a while really helped keep up that standard. Plus, it was just satisfying.  
The bell over the door jingled and you carefully straightened, drying your hands on your apron.  
The woman from a few days ago, the one with the red-brown hair and the smile like the sun, lit up even further when she saw you.  
“Hey!” She called, striding up to the counter. “How are you?”  
You grinned. “Good! You?”  
“Less tired, till need coffee.” She chuckled. She studied you for a long moment, her attention causing a blush to rise in your cheeks. “You know you have a smudge?”  
“A… what?” You asked, perplexed.  
“A smudge. On your cheek. Here.” She grabbed a napkin off the counter, motioning you to lean closer. You did, too startled to do anything else. She carefully wiped at your cheek, biting her lip in concentration on the second and third passes, before finally nodding. “Got it.”  
You leaned back, quite sure your face was crimson based on the heat in your cheeks.  
“What were you doing that got you all-“ She fluttered a hand. “Smudgey-cheeked?”  
You cleared your throat. “Ah, cleaning. I was getting the shelves under the counter.”  
She nodded thoughtfully, giving you a playful grin. “Noble.”  
“I try. What can I get you?”  
“A medium black coffee, for take away. Please.”  
“Coming right up.” You swiveled, grabbing a cup and willing the blush on your face away as you waited for the coffee to fill. You face felt much cooler by the time you turned back. “Can I get you anything else?”  
She bit her lip again for a moment, thinking, before shaking her head. “Naw, that’ll do it.”  
You traded coffee for money and watched as she took her first sip, nose wrinkling involuntarily as her eyes almost seemed to water. She tipped the coffee at you, coughing a little, before grinning.  
“Good stuff. Have a great afternoon!” She chirped.  
“You too.” You smiled, trying and failing to not watch her walk out. As the door thumped shut you shook your head, ducking back under the counter.  
Ketos came back a moment later, setting the sleeves of cups on the counter over your head.  
“What took you so long?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.  
They shrugged. “Storeroom was disorganized, had to dig them out. Then had to fix the storeroom.” They paused for a long moment, staring at you and frowning faintly. “You’re flushed, you feeling alright?”  
The blush came back, not quite full force but close. You muttered something, the only real discernable words ‘fine’ and ‘thanks’, and Ketos seemed mollified. At least they turned their attention from you back to the espresso machine, and you’d take the victory.  
*  
The woman with the reddish-brown hair missed the line by five minutes, her uncanny ability to walk in when no one was around seemed almost like a super power. There were worse mutant abilities, you mused as you watched her walk in. At least this one was benefitting you.  
She thumped her hands down on the counter, looking at you intently. “I just realized I don’t know your name.”  
“(Y/N).” You supplied, holding out a hand.  
“Portia.” She shook it, her grip warm and firm. You swallowed, your heart thudding. You glanced down at your hands, feeling a faint tingle along your palm and blinked.  
“What kind of pet do you have?” You asked, tipping your head. She gave you a startled look before dissolving into laughter.  
“Siamese cat, Pepe. What gave me away?”  
You gestured to her hand. “There’s some fur on your shirt sleeve.”  
She sighed, trying to brush it off. “He was so demanding this morning, I knew I missed some of it.”  
You chuckled, reaching under the counter for a roll of tape and pulling off a length. You pulled it into a circle, adhesive side out, and handed it to Portia. She shot you a grateful look, patting the hairs off her clothes.  
“How long have you had him?”  
“Since he was a kitten. He’s such a sweet boy.” She sighed, smiling affectionately, before looking at you expectantly. “Do you have any pets?”  
You shook your head. “Just plants, my apartment doesn’t allow pets.” Portia frowned. “I just borrow other people’s pets. It’s not perfect, but…” You trailed off, giving her a ‘what-can-you-do’ shrug.  
She bit her lip before breaking into a smile. “Well, then, do you want to see photos?”  
“I absolutely do, but let me grab your coffee first. Medium, black, take away?”  
She nodded, looking pleased that you remembered. You grabbed her coffee while she flipped through her phone. By the time you returned to the counter, she had a video of a little Siamese cat curled up in a box queued up. She set the phone down on the counter, hitting play as she slid the coffee over to her and took a sip (making a soft gagging sound and wrinkling her nose). The cat in the video, Pepe, peeped as he stared up at the camera.  
Three videos and a slew of photos later, you had made up your mind that you would fight an army for Pepe. Portia laughed when you expressed this, nodding.  
“Right? He’s just perfect.” She grinned, taking another sip of coffee and shuddering. You raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. “If you could have a pet, though, what would you want?”  
You shrugged. “At this point, anything I can just… pour an obscene amount of affection into.” You laughed, rubbing the back of your neck. “My plants get an absurd amount of attention but it’s just not the same, you know?”  
Portia nodded. “It’s different when they’re sentient. What are you growing?”  
“You don’t have to humor me about my plants just because I watched your cat videos.” You laughed. “I liked watching your cat videos.”  
“And I’d like to know about your plants.” She grinned.  
“Suit yourself. I’ve got a cactus-and-succulent garden in the living room window and a little herb garden in the kitchen. I’ve got a plot in the side yard I’m using for vegetables, nothing too fancy, and I’m trying to build an edible flower section this season.” You sighed. “Results have been mixed.”  
Portia blinked. “That’s… quite the undertaking.”  
You shrugged. “Like I said, absurd amount of attention.”  
She laughed, shaking her head. “That’s fair. I’m sure it’s a sight to be seen.”  
You snorted softly. “Thanks.”  
Portia glanced at the clock over your head and frowned. “Shoot, I need to get to work.” She bit her lip, smiling faintly. “Can I get a pumpkin bread for the road?”  
“Your wish is my command.” You turned, pulling a loaf out, and trading it for the money she was holding out. “Where are you headed, if you don’t mind my asking?”  
“Florist’s next door, I’ve been working for Nadia for…” Portia tipped her head, thinking. “Ages now.”  
“That’s awesome.” You paused. “Wait, how did we not meet sooner?”  
“You were usually working the espresso machine during a rush.” She rolled her eyes before realizing what she’d said, her expression morphing into one of mortification and vague horror. “I mean-!”  
You laughed. “Naw, I mean, that’s fair. That sums up a good chunk of my shift.” Belatedly, you realized the implication that she’d noticed you before, the heat on your cheeks doubtlessly matching the blush on hers.  
She laughed awkwardly. “Mine too, except with roses and greenery and foam flakes, instead of tasty coffee.” She sighed, glancing at the clock again. “I hope your shift isn’t too crazy.”  
“Yours too.” You waved. She shot you a grin, waving back, and disappeared out the door.  
The door thumped closed and you sighed, trying to still the butterflies in your stomach.  
*  
You took your time cleaning the espresso machine as you listened to the sound of Asra and Ketos going over the order for the week, a mix of actual helpful suggestions and good-natured bickering. They’d set themselves up on the end of the counter and the machine was the perfect middle ground between ‘still working’ and ‘blatantly eavesdropping’. Not that you had anything to contribute, after years of placing orders the pair of them had everything well under control, you just liked catching the occasional burn they’d throw at each other. They were never malicious and always got a good chuckle, you enjoyed egging them on when you had the chance.  
The bell jingling drew your attention and you set your rag down, stepping towards the register.  
Portia shut the door behind her and you felt your stomach do the familiar little twist it did whenever she came in. The tall redheaded man with her laughed and that little twist ended in a plummet.  
Ah. Your smile flickered for a bare moment, already back in place before either of them looked at the counter.  
Portia waved. You waved back. Portia waved harder, staring intently at the end of the counter. Bemused, you looked at Asra and Ketos. They were both waving back, grinning.  
Portia and the tall man stepped up to the counter, Portia positively beaming. The tall man was studying you and you swallowed nervously.  
“Hey, Portia.” You smiled, nodding your head in greeting to the man.  
“(Y/N), this is my brother Illya. Illya, this is (Y/N).” Portia’s hands fluttered between the two of you. The knot in your gut untangled and you felt almost embarrassed at your initial jealousy.  
Illya waved. You waved back.  
“It’s nice to meet you.” You glanced between the two of them. “What can I get for you? Portia, do you want your usual?”  
“Please.” She chirped.  
“A medium cappuccino.” Portia elbowed her brother and he grunted, looking chagrinned. “Please.”  
“Coming right up.” You grinned, grabbing a cup and getting Portia’s coffee first. As you flipped the toggle on the coffee carafe, Illya made a strangled sound of amusement.  
“That is not your usual.” His tone was somewhere between horrified and amused. He grunted again, you assumed from another elbow.  
“It is so!” Portia grumbled. He laughed.  
You snapped the lid on, turning back to them. He watched you walk back with growing elation and was leaning over his sister as she accepted the cup from you, shooting her brother an irritated but affectionate look.  
“If that’s your usual, then let’s see you drink it.” He grinned.  
Portia pouted and you felt your heart skip. “Why are you being so mean?” She frowned at him.  
He just gestured at her. She rolled her eyes, taking a sip and making a terrible face.  
He doubled over, laughing, and Portia frowned harder. Taking another sip, almost defiantly, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him towards the end of the counter where Asra and Ketos were watching with obvious amusement. She shot you a smile over her shoulder.  
You stifled a laugh, turning to the espresso machine and getting Illya’s cappuccino put together.  
By the time the coffee was done, Ketos had cleared all the paperwork off the end of the counter and the four of them were standing around talking like old friends. Asra and Illya were standing a little closer together and you tried not to raise an eyebrow at your manager as you handed Illya his drink. Portia grinned at you, but before she could say anything Illya leaned forward and stuck a finger out at you.  
“Tell me straight, now.” He grinned. “How long has my sister been drinking black coffee?” Next to him, Portia frowned.  
You shrugged. “Every time I’ve gotten coffee for her.”  
Illya laughed again and Portia gently punched his arm.  
Ketos shook their head, smiling. “What are you kids up to?”  
“Illya’s got the day off from the hospital and I’m off this afternoon so we’re going adventuring.” Portia beamed. “We stopped here first.”  
Asra glanced at Illya, a small smile tugging at his lips. “How long are you two stopping here…?”  
Portia lit up even more (you hadn’t realized that was a possibility- she already seemed to shine like the sun). “Are you off work? Do you want to come adventuring with us?” Your heart flopped a little, knowing you were stuck at the shop all afternoon. Not that she’d invited you.  
“Yes.” Ketos snorted. “And also yes.”  
Asra blinked, frowning at Ketos. “We’re not done with the-“  
“I’ll finish it.”  
“Perfect!” Portia clapped her hands, beaming, before her face fell. She looked at Asra, worried. “Do you, though? Want to come with us, I mean.”  
Illya was beet red, staring studiously at his coffee cup.  
A slow smile curled Asra’s lips as he gently knocked his shoulder into the taller man. “I suppose I can, since Ketos is so eager to be rid of me.”  
Portia turned her radiant grin on you. “(Y/N), are you-“  
“You can’t have my barista, Portia, I need them. If you want to abscond with them, you have to try earlier.” Ketos shot you a sympathetic glance and you blushed.  
Portia pouted, shooting Ketos a disappointed look before turning her attention back to you. “I’m kidnapping you next time.”  
“Promise?” You laughed.  
Portia nodded emphatically. “Promise.” She swung her attention to end of the counter, where Asra and Illya were standing almost shoulder to shoulder. She raised an eyebrow.  
“Let me grab my bag.” Asra laughed, pivoting and heading for the back hallway.  
“Stay out of trouble.” Ketos chuckled, reshuffling their stack of paperwork and heading for the register. Asra reappeared a moment later, escorting Illya towards the door.  
Portia turned back to you, pointing a determined finger at you. “Next time.”  
“Next time.” You agreed, unable to keep the silly grin off your face. She beamed, taking another sip of coffee and shuddering, before hurrying after the boys.  
As the door closed behind them, you turned toward the register and found Ketos staring at you.  
“What?” You asked, careful to keep your face neutral.  
Ketos just snorted, shaking their head, and went back to the order.  
*  
The next time Portia walked in, café half-empty and line-free, you were prepared. You’d been able to write off Portia’s terrible grimace every time she took a sip of coffee, somehow, but Illya’s remark the other day had decided things. You waited, leaning on the counter with a slowly growing grin on your face, as she walked in.  
“(Y/N)!” She called when she got close enough she wouldn’t have to yell. “How are you?”  
“Alright. How are you? How was adventuring?”  
She grinned. “Fantastic. We stopped by the farmer’s market and a couple of little shops Asra recommended and we picked up some things-“ She blinked, mouth forming a little ‘o’ for a moment. “I have something for you!” She turned, rifling through her bag, and you had your blush mostly under control by the time she turned back to you.  
Triumphantly, she set a pomegranate on the counter.  
You blinked, slowly smiling softly.  
You rolled the fruit towards you, making it disappear under the counter. “Thank you, Portia.” She grinned, blushing faintly. “I’m glad your adventure went well.”  
“Me too.” She sighed. “I feel like I hardly ever see Illya anymore, he’s always at the hospital.”  
“Then I’m extra glad you two got to spend time together.” You hesitated for a moment. “How do you two know Asra?”  
“Old family friend.” Portia shrugged. “Those two get on like a house on fire.” You laughed.  
“Getting coffee before your shift next door?” You raised an eyebrow.  
She nodded. “Please.”  
You watched her face as you slowly resumed your lean on the counter. “I assume you want a black coffee?”  
She nodded, hesitantly this time.  
“Portia. Do you like black coffee?”  
She stiffened. “I- Yes, of course I do.”  
You raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? ‘Cause you kinda frown every time you drink it.”  
She blushed and you heard the faint sound of her scuffing her shoe against the floor. “I like it just fine. It's... it's a very adult drink.”  
You raised an eyebrow.  
Portia's cheeks colored. "People take you seriously when you drink adult coffee." She frowned, faintly.  
A tiny smile curled up the ends of your lips. "People should take you seriously no matter what you drink."  
Portia snorted, glancing away.  
“Well.” You tipped your head. “I’ve been a barista a long time, and I feel a little… wounded that I’ve never gotten to make your coffee. Let me make you something this time and if my barista skills aren’t good enough for you then you go right back to drinking black coffee and I’ll never bring it up again.” You grinned. “Just give me once chance.”  
Portia frowned, somehow managing to make the expression look playful. “I suppose I could, just this once, to make you feel better.”  
“Thank you.” You closed your eyes for a moment, nodding, before sizing her up. “You want caffeine.” She nodded. “I have free reign?” She nodded again. “No allergies?” On the third nod, you grinned. “Great, go sit down. I’ll bring your drink over to you.”  
“Do I need to…” Portia trailed off as she reached for her wallet and you shook your head.  
“You’re taking a risk on me, least I can do is buy your drink. Maybe I’m really terrible, do you want to pay for a terrible drink?” You shrugged and she laughed, finally heading to a nearby table and watching you with interest.  
You turned to the espresso maker. Ketos was also watching you with interest.  
“What?” You asked, feigning innocence.  
Ketos shook their head, amused, and gestured to the machine as they stepped out of your way.  
You managed not to blush as you grabbed a cup and started the grinder.  
It took a few minutes, you were very careful with each step of the process because everything had to be perfect. You clicked the lid in place, grabbed the marker from your pocket and scribbled on the side, and finally nodded. You stepped back from the machine, catching a glimpse of Ketos’ obvious amusement, and stepped out from behind the counter.  
Portia raised an eyebrow, trying and failing to smother a smile as you walked to her table and triumphantly set the drink down.  
She sniffed it carefully, watching you. As the smell of spices hit her nose, she blinked then took a slow sip. A smile bloomed on her face.  
“What is this?” She asked softly.  
“Dirty chai.”  
“Did Ketos tell you I liked them?” She tipped her head, eyes narrowing.  
You shook your head. “Nope. I just figured.”  
“How?”  
You shrugged. “Barista’s intuition.” She laughed, taking a longer sip.  
“Well played.” She hesitated, catching sight of your writing on the cup. “What’s this?”  
“My number.” You managed not to blush too much as she looked up at you in surprise. “Figured you might need it, you know, for kidnapping purposes.”  
She grinned, the blush on her cheeks darkening. “You know, I hear there’s a good night market in town.”  
“I hear that too. Pretty sure I get off right before it opens.”  
“Pretty sure I do, too.” Her smile turned mischievous and she took a languid sip of chai. “Matter of fact, I think our shops close at the same time.”  
You nodded. “I think you’re right. It’d be a shame if I was ambushed by a certain florist while I was locking up.”  
“A right shame. Especially if that florist dragged you off to said night market. Possibly for snacks. Possibly to help her carry cat toys home.” She nodded slowly.  
“Cat toys do get awfully weighty.” You sighed, looking put upon. “It figures that florist would kidnap me just to use me to haul heavy things for her.”  
Portia laughed, standing. “Not just, there’ll be snacks too. Can you blame a lady for taking advantage of some muscle, though?”  
“So you’re taking advantage of me?” You pressed a hand to your chest, feigning offense.  
Portia gave you a slow smile. “Not yet I’m not.” She rolled up on the balls of her feet, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. “I’ll meet you out front.” With a wink and a wave, she disappeared out the front door.  
You pressed a hand to your cheek, a stupid grin working its way across your face before you slowly staggered back behind the counter.  
Ketos was leaning back next to the register, trying not to laugh.  
“Got a date tonight.” You observed.  
They nodded slowly, letting you lean on the counter next to them before they tipped their head. “You know she’s the boss’ daughter, right?”  
The blush drained out of your face and you shot them a wide-eyed look.  
Ketos’ laugh echoed through the café.


	7. Nahara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nahara – Coffee Shop – “You keep leaving origami flowers for me and you are ridiculously good at it”

You closed the door softly behind you, waving to Asra as you ducked into the back hall and shrugged out of your jacket. You grabbed an apron off the hook, tying it on as you slipped behind the counter.  
“How was the morning?” You called in greeting, shooting the white-haired man a grin.  
He tipped his hand back and forth, shrugging. “Busy but not slammed.”  
You nodded, glancing around and checking stock. “Ketos gets here in an hour, right?”  
“Sick of me already?” Asra winked as you shot him a glare and you couldn’t help chuckling.  
“Just getting my ducks in order.” You rolled your eyes, grabbing some cups from under the counter to fill out the stack next to the espresso machine.  
Asra hummed, grinning. “Of course, of course. We both know I’m your favorite shift lead, you’re just preparing yourself for the anguish of my leaving for the day.”  
“I’m not playing the favorites game, Asra. You always tease Ketos about whatever answer I give you and then they get sassy, and it’s like listening to my parents fight.” You shot Asra a halfhearted glare. “I’m not getting stuck in the middle of another coffee-parents-argument. I’m wise to your tricks.”  
Asra pressed a hand to his heart, feigning being wounded.  
“And, not to start this again, I want to point out that I didn’t take the morning shift when it was offered to me.”  
He waved a hand dismissively. “Only because you would have been waking up too early.”  
“You admit your radiant countenance isn’t worth losing sleep over?” You raised an eyebrow, hitting a button on the espresso machine and start to pull a shot for your shift drink.  
“I didn’t say that.” Asra sniffed. “I know that your resolve is too feeble for the opening shift.” Your laughter drowned out whatever he was going to say next and he waited until you’d gotten yourself under control. “Truly, only those of the strongest mental fortitude can handle the rigors of the opening shift.”  
“The twins handle the opening shift.” You observed dryly. “Fortitude is not a word I would associate with them, I honestly think they just exist on a whole other plane.”  
“You’re not wrong.” The sound of Elka’s voice behind you had the same effect as jamming a steel rod into your spine, any slouch you had previously had disappeared as you spun to face them. Elka grinned.  
You pressed a hand to your chest and even Asra looked startled at their appearance.  
“Can I get a couple americano's to go? Cita and I are gonna take off soon.” You nodded dumbly and Elka gave you a thumbs up.  
“Why do you two always get coffee before you leave?” Asra tipped his head. “You two have to be up crazy early to get here on time, do you sleep?”  
Elka shrugged. “Time is a social construct. We’ll be in the kitchen.” They disappeared back the way they came, kitchen door swinging shut silently behind them.  
“Every time I touch that door, it squeaks.” You observed, voice still recovering.  
“Like you said.” Asra snorted. “Other plane of existence.”  
You hummed, setting your drink to the side and pulling shots for the americanos. You passed them off on Asra, sending him to deal with the twins while you took hurried sips off your drink before the next customer could walk in. You hid the cup under the counter and, as if on-cue, the bell over the door jingled. You turned your best customer service smile towards the door and froze, blinking.  
The striking figure walking towards you with the golden hair utterly took your breath away and, dimly, you realized that was horribly unprofessional. You swallowed, getting a hold of yourself.  
“Welcome to Mazelinka’s!” You called in greeting once they got close enough that you didn’t have to shout. “What can I get started for you?”  
They hummed for a moment, eyes darting over the drink board. “A medium dirty chai, please, with two extra shots.”  
“Four shots total?” You verified. They nodded and you rang up the order, trying to keep your blush subdued and you handed them their change.  
They settled at a nearby table to wait as you washed your hands and slid behind the espresso maker, silently determined to make the best chai you’d ever laid hands on.  
Asra came back somewhere in the middle of making the drink, glancing at you appraisingly before taking up the post at the counter and greeting the next guest through the door. A small rush was starting as you popped the lid of the chai in place, setting it on the pick-up counter and calling to the golden-haired customer before turning your attention to rapidly growing line of cups. They called a thank you as they grabbed their drink, you caught the flash of a smile before they turned to head back out the door.  
You finished the next pair of drinks, setting them on the pick-up counter and pausing before you could call their recipients up.  
There was an little origami iris sitting on the counter that you hadn’t noticed before. You blinked, sliding it down somewhere safe and glancing at it in puzzlement before calling out the orders and sliding back to the espresso machine.  
You’d study it closer when you had a second.  
*  
Over the next week, you saw the golden-haired person three more times (always while you were at the espresso machine and always during a rush) and they were consistent in their order of a chai (although the amount of shots varied). You also found an origami tulip, a rose and a cherry blossom. Much to Ketos’ amusement you had fashioned them into a small bouquet, stuck them in a to go cup and set them near the cash register.  
You were not sure if these things were related, you still hadn’t actually seen anyone leave the flowers.  
It had been almost a week after the last flower and you were wiping down the counters during a lull. Ketos had disappeared into the back with a clipboard and instructions to yell if it got busy. You were humming along with the music, keeping one eye on the café, when the door jingled and drew your attention.  
The golden-haired figure walked in and you felt a small grin start on your face. The café was quiet, there was no line, and Ketos was in the back. You finally had a chance to talk to them.  
“Good afternoon!” You called when they got close enough. “Medium dirty chai, right?”  
They look pleased, nodding. You held up a hand before they give you the shot number and they stayed silent, a slow smile pulling the ends of their lips up in obvious amusement. You studied their face, calculating.  
Their skin almost glowed, but that had seemed to be the case every time you’d seen them. There were faint circles under their eyes, but their gaze was sharp and their amusement had no over-lay of tiredness.  
You tipped your head. “Two shots?”  
They nodded once, now very amused. “How did you know?”  
“Barista secret.” You grinned.  
They chuckled and the sound was smooth and rich. You found yourself enjoying it very much.  
“For here or to go?” You asked.  
They paused for a moment before sighing. “I should get it to go.” You raised an eyebrow, silent. “I’m helping my sister put together a particularly complicated order and this provided me a good excuse to not be in the shop for a moment. I shouldn’t be gone too long, though.”  
You nodded, finishing ringing in their order and counting out their change. “Reasonable, and mighty kind of you. Mind if I ask what kind of order?”  
“Flowers.” They sighed again and you glanced between them and the bouquet of paper flowers, bemused. “She owns the florists next door.”  
“Ah!” You chirped, grinning. “We are all quite familiar with Ms. Nadia, sometimes she graces us with her truly magnificent creations.”  
The golden-haired figure chuckled. “I am unsurprised. She’s been tasked with creating a truly magnificent wedding set, and I had to… excuse myself from the birth of genius for a moment.” They paused. “I’m Nahara.”  
“(Y/N). Pleasure to meet you. I’ll have this chai up for you in a moment, unless you want me to go extra slow to maximize your breathing room?”  
Nahara laughed. “That’s alright, I’ll just walk back very slowly.”  
You nodded. “I’ll bring it over to you.”  
You took your time with the chai, not drawing it out over-long but making sure it was perfect each step of the way. You glanced over the machine once, finding Nahara settled at a table nearby and all their attention focused down on something you couldn’t see.  
You popped the lid on their drink with a flourish and stepped out from behind the counter to take it to them. You made it three steps before your brain registered that they were doing something with their hands on the table, and two more steps before you realized what it was. Miraculously, you managed not to drop the coffee in your surprise. Those five steps had brought you just close enough that Nahara could hear you without you having to raise your voice.  
“It’s been you!” You hissed, pointing at them with your free hand. Nahara looked up, perplexed, neatly folded paper gripped in their long fingers.  
Nahara blinked. You set the chai in front of them, sliding into the open chair across from them and spreading your palms out on the table, watching their hands intently.  
They set the now-folded lotus flower next to the chai, sliding the drink closer to them. “It’s been me?”  
“You’re the one that’s been leaving the origami flowers.” You grinned. “I made them into a bouquet.”  
“I saw.” Nahara confirmed, smiling. “I’m glad you’ve liked them.”  
“They’re beautiful. Where’d you learn to make them?”  
They shrugged. “I learned a long time ago, one of my sparring instructors taught me.” You raised an eyebrow and they shrugged. “It’s a stress-relieving thing.”  
“You spar?”  
They nodded. “I’m a martial arts instructor.” They gave a secretive smile, not elaborating even when you raised a second eyebrow to join the first.  
“Will you teach me?”  
“To spar?”  
“To fold flowers. Maybe to spar.” You leaned out, giving them a once-over with your eyes. “Maybe not to spar, you might break me.”  
Nahara laughed, slowly sipping their chai.  
“Seriously though, you might be the coolest person I’ve met. I would happily trade chai for origami lessons.”  
Nahara raised an eyebrow, smiling.  
“Everyone wins- you get chai, I get to learn to fold crazy awesome things out of paper.” You grinned. “And I get to keep talking to you, which is a win in itself.”  
A faint blush dusted Naraha’s cheeks and they laughed. “Oh really?”  
“If I am very lucky, some of your coolness will rub off on me.” You nodded.  
They chuckled, taking a longer sip of their drink. “Very well. If you continue to make chai this top notch, I will teach you to fold things out of paper.” They reached out, sliding the lotus closer to you. “And perhaps, if my coolness is transitive, your cuteness will be too.” They winked, standing, and you spluttered for a moment before you re-found your voice.  
“Hang on, how do I get a hold of you?” You half stood, pausing when they looked from you to the lotus and back, quirking an eyebrow. You slid the lotus closer to yourself, looking down curiously. The line of a pen-mark was visible around the edges of a fold.  
Nahara took another sip, waiting for you to figure it out. You looked up, brows furrowed.  
“But to get your number, I have to pull the flower apart.” You observed, obviously dismayed.  
They shrugged. “And if you take origami lessons, you can fix it. If you like. Sometimes the beauty of the art is in its impermanence.”  
You paused for a long moment, thinking, before you finished standing and slid the lotus into your hand.  
“Fair point. I’ll text you. Good luck helping your sister.”  
They smiled, tipping their cup at you in a salute, and made their way to the door. You retreated behind the counter, studying the crisp lines of the lotus.  
Slowly, a grin spread across your face. You were really looking forward to learning how to re-fold it.


End file.
